Separate Entities
by kat-martine
Summary: What if Jacob Portman dismissed his grandpa's last words? What if he put away the letter from 'Miss Peregrine? What if life went on for Jacob as normal, until his past caught up with him one day? His life will be thrown upside-down when one day in Smart-Aid he meets a certain... peculiar customer. - Told from the point of view of my OC, Kallie Sanders.
1. Prologue

I have to admit, my first day in the small town of Englewood was terrible, and being alone didn't help at all. I knew nobody, and my closest relatives lived two hours away in Miami. The second day in Englewood wasn't much better. I had finished unpacking my boxes and went for a look around town, stopping by a McDonald's for lunch before checking out the exterior of the State College of Florida in Venice.

That was the only reason why I was in Englewood in the first place. At one thousand four hundred dollars a month, Englewood Bay Motel and Apartments was the cheapest thing I could find in the area that actually had free internet. I sure I could have found something closer if I had searched more, but a fifteen-minute drive to the college wasn't bad.

Before Englewood, I had lived in Orlando with my dad. My mother left when I was six, reverted to her maiden name, and became a national 'fiction' best-seller. Later, when she claimed her story was true, she was sent to a mental hospital, and my dad hasn't heard from her since.

My mom, Louise Turner, was strongly religious. She claimed that she won my dad over by converting him. The thing was, even though he was a painter, he was a pretty good actor as well. After their divorce, Louise sent me a copy of her book for my seventh birthday. I cried, of course. On the cover, written in bold Helvetica, was My Devil Child Daughter, by Louise Turner.

I had always been different. I wasn't saying that to sound 'cute and hipster' or 'super cheesy, but...'. To be one hundred percent honest, I could see spirits. Louise claimed that I managed to learn witchcraft at a young age, and claimed that my 'heathen father' taught me his 'evil ways'. The thing was, he was just as shocked as her. I knew then that talking about it wasn't a very good idea.

Of course, my father, being the peace-making guy he always was, tried to reason with Louise, saying that there are plenty of stories on the internet saying that children are closer to 'the other side'. That only made things worse for me, because my mother walked around the house for a year, locking me in my room and calling me 'Devil Child'. According to her book, I guess the name stuck. Then the divorce papers were signed and she was finally out of my life.

When I was nine, I got a weird present... Another dad. By that age my father had told me that he liked both men and women, and quite honestly, I was ecstatic. That year for my birthday, dad introduced me to his new partner, James. 'James and Oscar' were all the rage for the next month at school. My teachers were surprised how open I was about my 'gay dads', and even more so how greatly accepted it was. Most of my friends were jealous, stating that 'they wanted two dads'. They got married when I was eleven, and then the problems started.

I was still silent about my special 'talent'. I told James and dad a bit into the eighth grade that the spirits were still around. They were both freaked out but promised to help me. In high school my talent grew, and so did the hate towards my dads. Those two factors together caused me to quiet down. I was barely noticeable anymore, but that was how I liked it. Sure, my only friends at that point were punks and ghosts, but they made for great company. Plus, I got introduced to some damn good music.

Like my dad, art had always been a big passion of mine. My choice in college, of course, revolved around this. I know that there were better places in better areas to learn, but I was also looking for a small school. The State College of Florida in Venice was the answer to my prayers. A small college in a small town was all I could ask for. The distance was a problem, but I could handle it, and so could my dads.

On my third day in Englewood, I finally met someone - a human that I can actually call my friend. I had found a small cafe that wasn't Starbucks, finally - I hated their inflated prices - and managed to bump into the only waitress on duty. All she had was an empty tray, so I guessed she was just on her way out to clear some tables. After our collision, I picked up her tray and introduced myself, holding out a shy hand to shake.

We spent the next hour chatting, seeing as her shift was ending. Elaina Hamilton offered to buy me a coffee with her employee discount, and I accepted gratefully. Soon enough, I learned that she was also enrolled in the State College of Florida, and, like me, was starting the next August. When it was time for her to go, as she had a date with her 'punk rocker boyfriend' Ricky Pickering, we stepped out into the early June air to wait for him. I would walk back to my apartment by myself.

My first impression of Ricky was a strange one. His beat up Crown Vic was certainly a surprise, but a good one as it reminded me of my friend Theresa's back in Orlando. Theresa's was a deep-blue-but-not-quite-navy color and in much better shape in Ricky's, whose car looked like a metal shop dump. His green hair also took me by surprise, even though Elaina mentioned it to me when she talked about him in the cafe. I wasn't surprised that he'd been dying his hair the same color for three years - I'd been doing the same thing for four.

"Hey, Batgirl. You friends with Lainie?" he asked me, referring to the light gray Batman shirt I just happened to be wearing. I suddenly felt oddly exposed under his gaze as he took Elaina in his arms and kissed her forehead, only looking away from me when she backed away a step. I nodded as I pulled the hem of my black shorts down until they were a few inches above my knees, then took a step toward the couple.

"Uh... yeah?" I mentally slapped myself as my answer came out in the form of a question. I saw something flicker out of the corner of my eye, but I dismissed it. It was probably a spirit, but unless I acknowledged its presence it wouldn't acknowledge mine.

"Nice. Hey, cool hair, Batgirl." I grabbed a piece of my hair self-consciously, twirling the cherry red chunk around my finger.

"Thanks," I was getting more comfortable with the new acquaintance. I had dyed my hair a lot since I was allowed to at thirteen years old, just because Louise was a blonde, and so was I, and nobody really wanted the reminder. Through my experiments, I found out that not only did I like the red, but it looked good on me, too. In addition, all of my old friends stated that it made me look more punk rock. "I should probably be going-"

"You can't be serious, it's six. Hang out with us for a while, Kal!" Elaina smiled warmly as she looked to Ricky for a confirmation.

"But our da-"

"We'll have other chances for dates. Right now, Kallie needs the grand tour of Englewood." It took a moment, but Ricky finally nodded and kicked open the passenger door of his car for Elaina. I grabbed the handle of the backseat door closest to me. To my surprise, someone was already sitting there. Two spirits sat in the back seat, seemingly waiting for Ricky to get going.

"Excuse me," I whispered, but just as I did, Ricky entered the car.

"Talking to ghosts there, Batgirl?" He looked back at me with a smirk on his face as he closed his door, and the ghost moved over to the middle of the seat. I looked at him with shock, but there was a glint in his eyes that told me he was only joking. I laughed, playing off my nervousness as a joke as he intended, and got into the car.

We spent half an hour driving around aimlessly, and Elaina and Ricky pointed out everything they would consider important. Among those things was a hiking trail that led to the stereotypical 'Make Out Point' of Englewood, the Smart Aid where Ricky's best friend Jacob Portman worked, and the best ice cream joint in Sarasota County. After a brief pit stop, I soon agreed to stop in for a cone.

It was almost seven by the time we showed up at the beach. The whole car ride consisted of Metallica and Nirvana, with a little bit of early My Chemical Romance, blaring from the radio and the wind let in through the wide open windows added to the noise. I managed to make conversations with Ricky's ghosts, until they flew out the window, fed up with Ricky for the day. Before leaving, they told me they'd died in the crash, but the driver managed to survive. The truck that hit them came at a perpendicular angle and hit the back end. Ricky managed to fix the car up good enough to drive again, but it still looked like shit.

When we arrived at the beach, Elaina nearly broke the passenger door getting out, followed by a laughing Ricky who climbed out the same side. "You coming, Batgirl?" he asked me, and I nodded, getting out at a much slower pace. By the time I closed the door firmly behind me, Elaina had stripped off her white leather jacket and sky blue shirt, leaving on her black bra and jean shorts. Ricky pulled off his shirt and followed his girlfriend into the cool water after the both of them kicked off their sandals. I trailed behind them and took off my flip flops before slowly wading into the water.

Despite growing up in Florida, I was never the biggest fan of beaches. I was naturally olive skinned and could tan nicely, so it wasn't burning that I had a problem with. I just didn't like the thought of what could happen out there. Undertow, sand bars, drop-offs, sharks... I wasn't terrified, just cautious. At least I would go up to my knees. And I was alright with pools, I actually knew what was in those.

We spent another hour at the beach, and Elaina finally coaxed me in until the water was at my waist. We didn't have any towels, so Elaina and Ricky used their shirts while she let me borrow her jacket.

"You know what, guys?" I start on the drive back to my apartment, shouting over the loud music. Dirty Deeds by AC/DC was playing, and I was tapping my fingers to the beat. "That was really fun. Thanks for the tour. And the beach wasn't that bad."

"What do you have against beaches, Batgirl?" Ricky asked, looking back at me briefly before pulling up in front of the motel.

"Nothing, it's just... So much can go wrong, you know? I've kind of always been this way." I smile sadly, then get out of the car and hand Elaina's jacket back to her through her open window."

"No, you can keep it. It looks better on you, anyway." We exchanged smiles, and as I turned to go, she grasped my arm. "Hey, Kallie? As long as you're hanging with us, you'll be perfectly fine."


	2. Chapter One

"Shit!" I shouted, dropping the knife in my hand and clutching my finger instead. "All I wanted was a goddamn apple," I muttered angrily under my breath as I ran my finger under cold tap water. "Band-aids, where are the band-aids..." I headed to the washroom but found nothing. Just my luck.

After taking a shower and using a tissue as an improvised band-aid, I grabbed my car keys and wallet off the counter and headed out the door. It was time to go to Smart Aid. The only one I knew of was the one Ricky and Elaina showed me a week ago, so I decided to head over there. It was only a five-minute drive, after all. I would be back in a jiffy.

I left the motel and made my way to the parking lot, quickly spotting my baby blue Chevy Impala. I unlocked the door and entered, tossing my wallet into the passenger's seat. I got the Impala for cheap at a used car sale in Orlando. From the looks of her, she was a model from eighty-two. I absolutely loved her.

I nearly got lost on my way to Smart Aid, and when I showed up only four cars were parked in the large parking lot. I was surprised. It was Saturday in June. I looked at the seemingly empty building as I pulled into the parking space closest to the doors. After removing my keys from the ignition and taking my wallet from the seat beside me, I open the door and got out. As I approached the door, I noticed the time-table.

I checked my watch and my suspicions were confirmed: It was quarter-to-eight, and the store opened in fifteen minutes. The cars in the parking lot were probably those of the employees. If I stayed there, I'd be alone for fifteen minutes. If I left to drive around for a while... I could find a graveyard and meet some more spirits.

Since I moved to Englewood just a week and a half ago, I had spent all my time settling in and hanging out with Elaina and Ricky. I hadn't met anyone else, except for the cleaning lady at the hotel. She was about fifty years old and her name tag read GLADYS in a basic font. She seemed nice enough, and when she invited me to her house for tea that Thursday afternoon after I helped her clean my apartment - I just couldn't resist.

They lived in a house in Circle Village. Gladys' husband, Carl, looked ten years older than her and was probably blind, what with his pale eyes that looked milky and blurred. I felt sorry for him. They told me several stories of their past: how they met, their wedding, and oddly enough, about their old neighbor a few houses down who was killed by wild dogs a couple of years ago.

When I asked why they told me the story, Carl explained that the man, Abraham Portman, had gone mad. He kept on claiming that monsters were chasing him and were coming to kill him. He was afraid of everyone he used to be close with, including his neighbors and family. Somehow, when I walked through Carl's door with Gladys, he got the same sort of... feeling from me as he did from Abe. 'I'm just looking out for you,' he said.

I got back into my car and started her up again, keeping my wallet in my lap. I drove out of the parking lot and started making my way around Englewood, keeping track of which roads I went down. Over the next half hour, I had no luck finding a graveyard and ended up back at the motel. It was easier that way because then I would just retrace my 'steps' from earlier that morning.

Usually, I didn't go hunting for spirits, but living in a town where you only have two friends your age can get boring, fast. I needed some new surroundings. Of course, I had priorities, and going to Smart Aid was at the top of my list.

On my way there, I thought back to the story Carl had told me only two days prior. Why did the name Portman seem so familiar to me? Was it one of my uncles or aunts on James' side? I knew that dad had no siblings, I wouldn't even consider Louise a part of me anymore, so why was that name so present in my mind? A cool teacher? An old friend? A lost spirit?

I pulled into the parking lot again, and already there were about twenty more cars there than the first time I came around. I smiled. I wouldn't look stupid being there alone, the first customer of the day. As I made my way to the door, I stopped before pushing it open. Ricky's friend! Jacob Portman was the guy who worked here. Man, that guy just kept showing up everywhere. Maybe Abe was his grandfather? If I did meet Jacob, I swore to myself not to ask about it. I'd hate for someone to bring up an insane dead relative of mine, even if that wasn't the case.

At long last, I finally entered Smart Aid. I'd been in one before - there was a grand total of six in Orlando alone - but knowing that a friend of a friend worked there just made that place a little more special. If I met him, I'd be sure to have the best first impression I'd had on anyone in town so far. It would be easy to do, considering the fact that the first four people I've made friends with I bumped into quite literally, was incredibly awkward with, and met in the backseat of a car because, hey, they were dead.

After finding everything I came for, I headed to the checkout lines. I stood behind a middle-aged woman who was buying some groceries. From the looks of it, she was planning to make a fruit cocktail smoothie with a side of mashed potatoes, but who was I to judge? I caught the eye of the cashier as he swiped the bar codes across the scanner. His cheeks started to redden, and I wasn't sure if it was because of me or the Batman Band-Aids I was carrying under my arm.

"Jake, try to be home by supper, okay? I know overtime can get a little lengthy, but you should-" the woman was chattering away to the cashier, taking out her debit card and swiping it through the machine. Before she could continue, the boy - her son - cut her off.

"Goodbye, mom," Jake muttered through clenched teeth, not looking at his mother as he handed her the receipt.

"Alright, alright, I get it, you're a busy guy! I'll just go." She put all her groceries into the bags she carried with her and turned around, exiting Smart Aid.

"Finally..." Jake sighed as he spoke. "She's not always like that."I was surprised.

I was surprised. He was willing to talk to me? I took a look at his name tag. "You're the Jacob Ricky was talking about!" I smiled as I handed him my armload of odds and ends. His eyes widened and a smile grew on his face.

"Uh, yeah. He and Lainie mentioned a new girl in town. Carly, was it?" I giggled at him and shook my head.

"Kallie, actually, but close guess-" A spirit materialized behind Jacob. This had happened a couple times before for me, where a ghost would haunt a person rather than a thing. Back in Orlando I had managed to keep up a tiny business where people would come to me when they had 'ghost problems'. It lasted for a while, and the funds, along with savings from other part-time jobs, were what I was using to pay for my first year of college.

"What? What is it? Is it a bug? I know girls hate bugs..." His voice was lost to me, as I focused on the spirit. He wasn't aggressive, just... sad. Disappointed.

"It wasn't a dog, Yakob. I'm telling you!" I heard his German-accented English resonating throughout the building, but I knew only I could hear it. It was one of the effects of the spirit realm. It was just like ours, but much more deadbeat, to be quite literal - desolate and kind of echo-y. "The girl is peculiar, as well! Girl, tell him." The way he said it wasn't a dog... I had a hunch. How he could tell I could see him, though, was beyond me.

I nod absently and focus back on Jacob. "I'm fine, don't worry, Jacob." I looked behind me, and thankfully nobody else was in line. "Listen, your grandpa was Abraham Portman, right?"

By the shocked expression on his face, I could tell I was right, and that I probably struck a nerve. "Y-yes... How do you-"

"It doesn't matter how I know that, just - when do you get off work, four-ish?" He nodded, obviously confused and a little freaked out. I couldn't blame him. If I were in the same situation, I would definitely feel the same. "Alright, well, after you have supper, meet me at the diner where Elaina works. We should talk."

The look of confusion was still in his blue eyes and I wasn't really surprised. What was some random chick he barely met going to do to him? He put all my stuff in a plastic bag and rang up the total cost. Twenty-eight sixty-five. I took out a twenty and a ten and handed over to him before taking my bag, change, and receipt and leaving with a quick 'goodbye'. I could be a real loser sometimes.

It was six o'clock when Jacob finally walked through the cafe doors. I stood up to let him know I was there and motioned for him to sit down. We sat in awkward silence for a couple moments, only speaking up when Elaina came by to take our orders. Jacob ordered a black coffee, while I ordered the exact opposite, a french vanilla. I was never really big on coffee, but sometimes I would make an exception.

"Were you waiting long?" he asked after taking a sip of his coffee. I shook my head.

"No," I lied. "Only five minutes." Fifty, actually. Just in case. Abe appeared behind Jake on the other side of the booth, right in front of the door. I nodded to him quickly, letting him know that I saw him without being too suspicious. "Alright, so-"

"Yeah, what was that about in Smart Aid? You looked like you saw a ghost." Abe laughed a little, but sorrow rang true throughout. I felt a tug at my heart. Just what had happened? "Kallie? Are you alright? What is it?"

"Jake - can I call you Jake?" He nodded, and I continued. "That's just the thing. I, uh...I see ghosts, spirits. Things that nobody else can. And your grandpa, Abe, he's right behind you." Jacob looked behind him as if he expected, by hearing me talk about my talent, to see his dead grandpa in zombie form next to the booth. Then he started laughing.

"You've got to be kidding me!" He turned back around to face me, then took another sip of coffee before continuing. "You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?" The way he seemed, it was like he was hiding something.

"Yakob doesn't believe anything that sounds like a fairy tale, anymore." Abe smiled sadly at his skeptical grandson. To prove my point, I respond.

"What do you mean, anymore? What happened?" At that point, I wasn't even paying any attention to Jacob, who was looking at me as if I had another nose and twelve fingers on each hand.

Abe frowned. "As I said in superstore, I vasn't killed by dogs. It vas that goddamn wight, Carl. He's not a human, girl. I can tell you have seen him. He... monsters are real. He has one. He vas one, at one point. The monsters eat the souls of people like us. You, me, and Yakob. Please tell him that I vasn't insane at death." I nodded, sympathy for the old man flooding over me. Then I repeated what the old ghost spoke.

It was a few minutes before Jacob finally responded. Even then, I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly. "I knew I saw something that night."

"What? What night? Were you there when he was killed?" I asked. I regretted being so blunt, but I needed answers. I liked helping people, but I had my own way around doing it. Jacob nodded, then looked around at the rest of the customers. At that moment, someone entered through the door and passed through Abe, causing him to vanish into thin air.

"We shouldn't talk about it here. Too many people. I bet you could like... talk to him better if we went to the cemetery where he's buried." I nod, and we get up to leave. I drop a ten dollar bill on our table, which was enough to pay for our coffees and left behind a tip for Elaina.

"Shit, I walked here, I'm gonna have to ride with you, alright?" I asked, cussing at myself in the process for my poor decision making.

Jacob grabbed my wrist and led me to a black 2009 Saturn. James had bought one last year in a silver color, so I was familiar with the build. "That was the point, Ghost Girl." I chuckled at his name for me. It reminded me of James again. It was his nickname for me at home. I didn't mind, either, I was glad that he was willing to have a 'devil child'.

"What do you mean, Jake?"

"Ricky told me you had a blue impala. I was worried when I came here because I didn't see it." he stated as he pulled his keys out of his back pocket and unlocked his car. We got in, and I couldn't help but marvel at the smell. It was like peaches, but there was no scented tree or air freshener of any sort. It was different, for a car. Jake must have noticed my surprise at the smell. "My mom baked a peach pie for dessert. I was going to bring you some, but I got hungry on the way."

I laughed at him as we pulled out of the parking lot and drove in the direction of the cemetery. It was a silent drive of ten minutes, but it wasn't as awkward as the first one. It was comfortable now. I was glad that I'd manage to redeem myself after my episode in Smart Aid. It might have made my friendships with Elaina and Ricky awkward too if the meeting hadn't gone this well. Maybe if my work with Jacob turned out fine I'd start up my business again.

Within seven minutes we had driven to the south end of town, near Circle Village, and I started to get nervous. "What's up, Ghost Girl?" So Jacob had noticed my little jitters.

"Nothing, I'm fine Jake. Keep driving." He nodded warily and turned down another road just before the beginning of the cul-de-sac. My nervousness died down, and before long I spotted the graveyard just down the road. I perked up, and Jake laughed at my excitement, but he didn't even know the half of it.

When he parked the car on the side of the now gravel road, I nearly leaped out the door. It had been so long since I had been to a cemetery for a good reason, and that moment was absolutely gratifying. Jake continued laughing as I rushed down the dirt path, waving at various spirits who happened to be out and about, Jacob following at a more appropriate pace.

Then I remembered that I had no idea where Abe was buried. Jacob finally caught up to me and took my hand, bringing me down one of the rows of perfectly placed gravestones. His mood soon grew somber - we were nearing his grandpa's grave. I smiled at more of the ghosts we passed on the way, acknowledging their presence as if they were still alive. The dead people of Englewood were nice, nicer than most of the living ones.

Finally, we stopped in front of Abe's grave, and Jacob had to sit down and put his head in his hands. "Alright. You told me what he said. Now it's my turn to tell the story." He sighed. Just being here was getting to him, judging by the sadness in his voice.

"Jake, we don't have to be here if it's too much."

"It's fine, Ghost Girl. I'm finally ready to tell someone else about what happened the day he died." There were a few seconds of silence - as if he was deciding how to start - before he began his story.


	3. Chapter Two

"I was fifteen at the time. My grandpa had been going off his rocker lately, but my parents and I didn't pay any mind to it and sent him to the doctor to get pills. They always threatened to put him in a home, but I hated that idea. I was closer to him than my dad ever was.

"As a child, Abe would tell me these... these stories, all about his life before moving to America. I was awestruck at the time. He had pictures, too. Levitating girls and skinny boys who could lift entire boulders over their heads. A guy with bugs inside of him and invisible boys and one boy who made living dolls. It was all so amazing to a five-year-old.

"And then there was their headmistress, 'a wise old bird who smoked a pipe', he told me. And they lived on an island where the sun shone every day and it never rained and they all ate like kings at every meal. It seemed like paradise for a kid who'd never left Sarasota County.

"It wasn't until I was older that I realized that this place wasn't a paradise, but a nightmare. When I was seven or eight he told me how they were actually trapped on the island by terrifying monsters that smelled like rotten fish and had several black tentacles instead of a tongue. Every time he told me these things, he would add a horrifying new detail.

"Then he told me that after he left at the age of sixteen, he went to fight the monsters that kept them in captivity for so long. I thought he was a hero, but when I started boasting about my epic grandpa at school, I was called Fairy Boy. It was stupid, and that day after school I told Abe that I didn't believe in his stories anymore.

"The night of his death, I got a phone call at work. I worked at Smart Aid back then, too, by the way. He wanted the key to his gun cabinet, but I thought he was being delusional. He kept claiming that they were after him! They were after him! but I didn't believe him. After work, I went with Ricky to see him, make sure he was alright and all. Well, what I saw when we showed up fueled my nightmares for months."

"His entire house was a wreck. It was obvious that he had put up a fight against whatever it was. The long scratches in the back door's screen were the 'proof' that wild dogs got him, and the trail of blood lead in into the woods behind his house seemed to confirm it even more. But that wasn't the case at all.

"I found his body nearly torn apart in a clearing. I distinctly remember what he told me. It's stayed with me since then, in either dream or nightmare form. Usually, it's nightmares, though. 'Find the bird. In the loop. On the other side of the old man's grave. September third, 1940'. It was terrifying to hear it coming from him in such a shaken up state.

"After that, I had nightmares so bad I had depression and anxiety and insomnia. My mom made me see a counselor, Doctor Ainsley. She was nice enough, and after seeing her for a while I was almost back to normal. It's been four months since I've last seen her. But the nightmares still come sometimes. There's no way to stop them forever. But I've really been trying."It had been almost a week since I'd thought about Abe, but then you showed up at Smart Aid this morning and honestly, for a moment I hated you. But I just... I had to know what was up with you. I guess I'm just a curious person. And that's it, I guess."

All I could do was stare at Jacob. He had been so raw and open, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and yet he said the whole story as if it was nothing. I crouched down to his level before sitting down next to him and wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug. I was half expecting him to scoot away, but he stayed.

Finally, I was able to muster up something to say. "Wow."

"Man, Ghost Girl, I can't handle all these questions at once, slow down." His laugh was supposed to be happy, but instead, it came out strained. He tried a sarcastic smirk that only came off as a sad half smile.

"Well, I do have a question. And a comment."

"Comment first?" He asked, seeming to lighten up a bit. I smiled sympathetically at him before nodding.

"This entire time, Abe hasn't shown up once. I think he might be more connected to you than his grave. That happens, you know. And, question, I suppose this is what you were talking about when you mentioned 'what you saw that night'?"

"Y-yeah. I... what time is it? I left my phone in the car." I checked my watch since I'd left behind my phone to charge at the motel.

"Quarter-to-seven," I stated. "Time to go?"

"Yeah, I have to be back home by seven. And I'm a little tired." I nodded at his reasoning, but an idea came to mind.

"Well, hey, you just talked about some pretty deep shit. Maybe we can convince your parents to let you stay out until nine? It is summer, anyway, so it's not like it's a school night or whatever. We can get Ricky and Elaina and go to the beach or something." Jacob's smile in response told me that it was a welcome proposition. "Shall we get going, then?"

It wasn't until we'd been on the road for a good five minutes before another thought came to me. "Hey, Jake? Back at the cafe, Abe told me that we were like him... what word did he- peculiar. We're peculiar, like him. Maybe the other kids he talked about when you were little were peculiar as well? Their headmistress, too."

"That's a good thought, but I already know they are." I looked at him, confusion written across my face. He definitely left something out of his story.

"What do you mean?" I asked, and without hesitation, he replied - it was like he was waiting for me to ask.

"My birthday after he died, my Aunt Susie gave me a book she found at his house addressed to me when she and my dad were clearing it out. There was a letter inside for him from the headmistress of the island orphanage he was at. I put it away som-"

"Island orphanage? Come on, Jacob, how much of this story did you forget to tell me?" I cut off, not trying to hide the fact that I was annoyed.

"Well, sorry I was trying to keep it short. But, yeah. It was mentioned in the letter, although I had a hunch. And until you confirmed that the monsters were probably real, I'd always thought they were using another name for the Nazis." He responded so casually I wanted to punch him. Why didn't he say so in the first place?

I opened my mouth to sass him - what else was he hiding from the story? - but instead, a different question came out. "Why do you trust me?" Jake looked at me with confusion. "Yeah, I mean, you didn't believe your grandpa when he talked about this, so why me?"

"I don't know," he shrugged before turning onto a road with huge yet identical houses. Was one of these his? "There's just something about you, I guess. It's been two years, and suddenly this is a big, flashing, neon sign in my life again. Maybe it's fate or something, I don't know. But it could be important. I think it's also the way you haven't once questioned me why I still live with my parents."

I laughed at his comment - though it made sense that I forgot about such a minor detail - and was about to respond when we pulled into a driveway. His house must have had three floors and a basement; it was huge.

As we stepped out of his Saturn I continued to stare at it with awe. "Surprised a normal guy like me lives in a house like this?" he asked, taking me by the wrist and tugging me up the driveway to the front door.

"I can see why you'd want to stay with your parents. How...?" I couldn't even muster up the rest of my question, the interior of his house was just as gorgeous, and I was only looking at the entry.

"My uncles own Smart Aid. I've been trying to get fired for years." We both chuckled at his remark before his mom entered the foyer. She smelled peachy, just like Jacob's car, so I assumed she'd just been in the kitchen.

"So, kids, how was your date? Did you like the pie?" She asked, wiping her hands on her apron. She was about the same height as me and quite pretty, for a mom. I could tell baking must be different for her - the look of disgust on her face as she wiped off her hands showed that she would be much less 'house-wifey' under different circumstances.

"Well, Mrs. Portman, I wouldn't know. Jacob ate it all before showing up. It smells delicious, though." I responded with a warm smile, outstretching a hand for her to shake. "I'm Kallie Sanders, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Kallie, I'm Maryann. There's more pie in the kitchen, just behind me. Oh, and, we don't wear shoes in the house, dear." She smiled, and I kicked off my flip flops.

"Thank you, Maryann." I smiled before entering the kitchen, passing the stairwell as I went. Behind me, I could hear Jake whining.

"It wasn't a date, Mom, God. Stop being so weird. She's just a friend." I smirked a bit as I found a seat at their breakfast bar where a pie and a half sat next to a stack of plates. A pie slicer was sitting in the empty space of the half-pie tin, so I served myself. A stack of forks was placed atop the plates. The whole setup was incredibly convenient.

I wasn't offended by what either of them said. Sure, Jacob was very nice, but even if I was looking for a relationship, it would not be with him. I could tell that it wouldn't work out between us. I'm not sure how, but we just didn't seem to 'match up' like that. Already he felt more like a brother to me than anything. I took my first bite of pie and had to keep from moaning. I wasn't the biggest fan of peach pie, but this one was to die for.

Jacob and Maryann both entered the kitchen and he took the seat next to me. "Listen, mom. I was wondering if I could go with Kallie, Ricky, and Lainie to the beach tonight?"

"Until when, hon?" She asked in return. If my suspicions were correct about this woman, a battle of negotiations was about to take place. I was correct.

"I was hoping until nine, nine-thirtyish?"

"Eight thirty."

"Nine?"

"Quarter to."

"I leave at quarter to nine?"

"Deal." Maryann extended a hand and Jacob shook it, and I couldn't help but giggle at the exchange. This was the sort of relationship I had with my dad. James was always the more fun, carefree one, even though both my dads were amazing. But my dad was always a little harder on me. He was the one who expected straight As, the one who was super protective whenever I liked a boy. But James balanced that. I was actually happy with my family, unlike most of my friends or other kids my age. It was something I was proud of.

Before long, Jacob had called up Ricky and told him to meet us at the beach. He went to change into his trunks and then we left for my motel so I could change into an actual bathing suit. I owned three in total: two bikinis and a one-piece. I wasn't planning on taking off my shorts the whole time, but I put on a full bikini set anyway. The red frill on the top was what made me love the suit so much, even though it was cute without it. Instead of putting on a top, I just shrugged on Elaina's white leather jacket, bringing one of the room's towels and my phone with me.

I was surprised but relieved when Jacob didn't stare at my exposed midriff. That definitely would have put an awkward damper on the night. As we started toward the beach, I put down the sun visor and looked in the mirror. I didn't rely too much on make-up, I was at the point where what other people thought of my naked face wasn't my top priority. Instead, I focused on my hair. That was always what I focused on more.

"Hey, Jake?" An idea popped into my head. "What do you think I'd look like with short hair?" What I got in response was a laugh. I looked at him, his head thrown back and eyes closed. "You'd better pay attention to the road, Jake," I warned, narrowing my eyes - I wouldn't look that bad with short hair, right? He chuckled a little and looked ahead again. I turned back to my reflection.

"You know, my dad is the only other person who really calls me that." I looked at him. What?

"It's a common nickname for 'Jacob', why does nobody else call you that?" He shook his head an shrugged in a silent 'I don't know'. We drove on in silence until we reached the beach. Almost as soon as Jacob parked the car and we got out, Ricky's Crown Vic showed up and parked next to Jake's Saturn. Elaina was the first one out.

After kicking off her flip flops, she picked them up and ran towards us. "Kal, I told you you looked better in my jacket than I did!" I hugged her as a quick 'thanks' and took off my own flip flops, letting my toes sift through the warm sand.

"I thought I recognized it from somewhere," Jacob commented, and Elaina and I laughed. Ricky came up behind Elaina and hugged her, his tall, six foot three frame towering over her five foot seven one. He made me feel tiny, as I was only five foot five. The air grew a little colder. I turned to look at Jacob, but Abe wasn't there. The stereotype about a ghost's presence making the air turn cold was true. I suppose it must have been the two in Ricky's backseat.

My three friends started walking towards the beach until Elaina noticed I wasn't with going with them. "Come on, let's go, Kal!"

"I'll be right there, I forgot my towel in the car," I explained, which was true. I walked back around the hood of Jake's car and leaned through the half-closed windows, stretching my arm down until I grasped my phone. I pulled my arm out and slipped it into my jacket pocket before trying for my towel. I grabbed it and pulled it out, then turned and waved to Ricky's ghosts. They waved back, and I ran after my friends.

The hour and a half we spent flew by, and I even went all the way underwater. Elaina was really helping me get out of my fear of open water. My shorts had started weighing me down, and I eventually had to take them off. The red of my top's frill matched that of the fabric of my bottoms, and when I re-entered the water, Elaina commented on it.

"Your suit is adorable, girl! Very nautical," she played with the frill as she spoke, and I laughed and splashed her away, only about ribs deep in the water. That was when she pulled me under. I came up for air after a few seconds of shock and laughed, wiping the water out of my eyes before splashing her again. The boys only laughed at us. Elaina was right about my bikini, though; the rest of my top was navy-and-white striped.

The sun was setting when we finally left the water, and all of us were shivering as our bodies touched the cold air. I grabbed my towel and shook the sand off of it before wrapping it around my body. We dried off as much as we could and sand was sticking to our feet, but all in all, the entire night was worth it. Jacob and I shared our goodbyes with Elaina and Ricky, and we headed in our separate ways.

The ride back to the motel was mostly a comfortable silence. I hugged my jacket around my shoulders and Jake wore his shirt. The hem was wet where it made contact with his trunks, but that was all. I had tracked sand into his car, and I really hoped he didn't mind.

It wasn't until we were almost back home when he broke the silence. "You should come over tomorrow." I nodded in agreement, but he didn't stop talking. "We can talk more about my grandpa thing."

"There's more about your grandpa thing?" I cocked an eyebrow as I looked at him. He shot a glance at me before looking at the road again.

"Well yeah, there's always more to mysterious stories, isn't there?" He was probably right, but what more could there be to this? I thought he told me everything.

"I guess you have a point. If there really is something more to it and this isn't a scam to get me back at your house - for whatever reason - I'm in." He laughed at my words.

"This isn't a scam, I promise. It's probably something I should have taken seriously a long time ago, actually." I nodded absentmindedly, seeing the motel just up ahead. He spoke again when he parked on the side of the street. "I'll pick you up after work, alright?"

I rolled down my window all the way before getting out of the car. After closing the door, I leaned into it. "Your mom's going to start thinking I can't drive for myself if you keep chauffeuring me around like this, Jake," I said. "But sure. I'll see you then."

I waited until he drove away before crossing the street. When I finally made it up to my room I realized just how tired I actually was. I could barely muster up the will to change out of my slightly damp bikini before flopping down onto my bed and falling asleep. I didn't even bother getting under the covers, and my last thought was of what secrets the next day would hold.


	4. Chapter Three

"Hey, Kallie. Ready to go?" Jake asked as I stepped out of the motel front doors. I rolled my eyes at him before opening the door and getting in.

"What do you think?" I countered, buckling up and taking off my sunglasses. "Would I be here if I wasn't ready?" He laughed before driving away from the motel.

"Touche, Ghost Girl," he smiled. "Nice hat."

"Thanks." I tugged on my black bowler hat a bit, remembering my sixteenth birthday. "James gave it to me a couple years ago." As soon as I said it, I realized I hadn't told Jacob who 'James' is. "He's my step-dad, by the way. He's cool."

Jake nodded and glanced briefly at me. "What happened to your mom?"

"What's she got to do with anything?"

"Well, then, what happened to your dad in order for your mom to remarry?" I laughed at his question. I never got mad that nobody thought my dad was bisexual, it was just normal that nobody did. Until they've been told otherwise, everyone just assumes everyone else is straight. "What's so funny?"

"My dad's bisexual. James is gay. And as for my mom? That bitch wrote a book about how I was a 'devil child' for having my peculiarity. Quite the family, huh?" I said it with less joy in my voice than I was going for. In fact, the whole thing just sounded sad, and I started to play with the fraying edge of my black shorts.

Jacob nodded and we rode the rest of the way to his house in silence. I lightened the mood when I noticed he was still in his work clothes. "Cool shirt." I tugged on the sleeve of his blue polo and he batted my hand away, laughing.

"Shut up," was all he said as we finally arrived at his house. As we got out of the car, Maryann shut the door of the house behind her, dressed in fancy looking clothes and carrying a cute black handbag.

"Jacob! I'm glad you're here. Hi, Kallie," she greeted us when she saw we were approaching her. She pulled each of us into a hug before carrying on. "I'm just stepping out for a bit. Jacob, your father wants to talk to you in the living room. You're going to be surprised!"

"Um, alright," he responded. I smiled as I heard the 'what did I do wrong?' tone in his voice. "When will you be back?"

"Oh, seven-ish? Renata Harrison invited me over for dinner." I looked at my watch; it was quarter-to-five.

"Your old college friend Renata Harrison? Doesn't she live like, half an hour away?" Jake asked, a little skeptical.

"Exactly why I'm leaving now, honey. Have fun, kids! But not too much fun, you hear?" I could only giggle as Jacob's cheeks reddened. With that, Maryann got into her car and drove off down the street. I knew that Jacob didn't want to be anything more than friends, but he did seem like the type that could get flustered easily. Jacob shrugged at me before opening the door, holding it open for me before entering. We kicked off our shoes in the entry and I followed Jake into what must have been the living room. There was his father, sitting on the couch and writing in a small notebook. He looked up over his glasses and stood when he saw us.

"Hi, Mr. Portman," I broke the ice. I extended a hand to him and smiled when he shook it. "I'm Kallie Sanders."

"Nice to meet you, Kallie. You can call me Franklin. I suppose you're Jake's new girlfriend, right?" I giggled and shook my head at him.

"We're only friends, Franklin. He's great, though, just not my type."Jake looked at me looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "Not your type?" That made me full-on laugh./p

Jake looked at me looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "Not your type?" That made me full-on laugh.

"Sorry, Jake, you know it's true. I like quiet, mysterious guys that seem invisible to the world." I hoped he would catch on. I know it seemed weird, but I'd only ever had a crush on one person - Seth Fowler. The thing was, he was a ghost. He was one of my best friends before he died, but car crashes are an all-too-common way to go.

I smiled weakly at Jake before his mouth opened in the shape of an 'o'. Franklin just looked from me to his son before remembering what it was he wanted to talk to the latter about. "Jake, your mother and I talked it over, and you can go. The only thing is, we're only paying for one ticket. Kallie, you're going to have to pay for the trip yourself. From what we've heard of you from Jake and his friends, you're perfectly trustworthy." I looked at Franklin, then Jacob, with confusion.

"Uh, thanks, I guess," I smiled, then turned to Jacob. "Jake? What's he talking about?" I asked, then he grabbed my wrist and started to tug me out of the room.

"Da-ad," he groaned, "we haven't talked about it yet. That's why she's here. We're going to my room."

"Alright," Franklin nodded, then sat back down. As soon as we started climbing the stairs Jacob released his grip on my wrist. "Sorry, Jake," his dad called up, "and don't get carried away."

I giggled again. "Da-ad!" Jake repeated; he was getting seriously, without a doubt, ticked off at Franklin. As we reached the top of the stairs, Jake turned the very first corner and pushed open the door to his bedroom. "Sorry about that. My dad can be stupid and annoying sometimes."

"Tell me about it. I have two of 'em!" We laughed at that, and he motioned for me to sit down on the edge of his bed before going to one of his dressers. My hands moved over the soft comforter, and I observed the odd stitching.

I waited in silence until Jacob started another conversation, turning his head to look at me. "You only fall in love with ghosts, don't you? That's what you were just talking about, right? Like, a necrophiliac?" I chuckled at him and shook my head.

"Um, no. Basically, I don't really fall in love easily. I mean, I can get a crush on someone in the blink of an eye, but I've only really loved someone once, but he died in a car crash on the night that I told him that. His whole family was killed - his mom, dad, his little sister... He was such a good guy, he was my best friend... Why did it have to be him? He was only seventeen." Jake and I sighed at the same time, me forlornly and him in exasperation. "Wow, hurtful," I tried to joke, but I just wasn't feeling it. I knew he was getting mad that he couldn't find whatever he was looking for in his dresser.

He looked back at me and smiled sadly. "That really does suck, though. But I guess life goes on, right?" I nodded, and he turned back to his dresser, continuing his search. Only seconds later, Jacob pulled a hand out of one of his dresser drawers with a smile. "Found it!"

I shifted on the bed as he walked towards me, handing me an envelope. I looked up at him questioningly, but he remained silent, just standing there and watching me. I was too nervous about the letter to scold him about his creepy eye contact. I quickly opened the envelope and read the message inside.

Dearest Abe,

I hope this note finds you safe in the best of health. It's been such a long time since we last received word from you! But I write not to admonish, only to let you know that we still think of you often pray for your well-being. Our brave, handsome Abe!

As for life on the island, little has changed. But quiet orderly is the way we prefer things! I wonder if we would recognize you after so many years, though I'm certain you'd recognize us - those few who remain, that is. It would mean a great deal to have a recent picture of you, if you've one to send. I've included a positively ancient snap of myself.

E misses you terribly. Won't you write to her?

With respect admiration,

Headmistress Alma LeFay Peregrine

I looked at Jake, confusion written on my face, then set the letter down next to me and picked up the envelope from my lap. I opened it wider than I had before and pulled out the promised picture. "Headmistress Peregrine?" I asked. He nodded.

"The wise old bird that smoked a pipe," he pointed out. I smiled at him before asking him another question.

"Alright, so why did you show this to me?"

Jacob inhaled and sighed loudly before answering me, and I started to grow worried. "I wasn't completely honest yesterday at the graveyard. I never stopped seeing a counselor. Dr. Ainsley just retired and got replaced by this guy, Dr. Golan. Instead of pushing me to forget what happened that night that grandpa died, he's been trying to help me get rid of my issues altogether, starting at the root of my problem."

"Alright," I broke into his explanation, but it seemed he wasn't done explaining himself yet. He raised a hand to silence me, and I shut my mouth and started to fiddle around with my fingers.

Jacob sat down next to me before speaking again, moving Miss Peregrine's letter out of his way. "Golan doesn't know about this letter - nobody does except for you, now - but I did tell him about the island from my grandpa's childhood. He said I should go there for closure, to see that there's nothing there. I'd already talked about it with my parents, but they said that unless I brought someone else with me, I couldn't go."

I nodded before he continued, seeing where he was going with this. Reassured that I was still following along, Jacob continued. "My dad is an author and for a while, he actually wanted to be an ornithologist. I suggested that if he went to the island with me he would be able to write the ultimate bird book, since I'd done my research and found out there were a bunch of unique birds nobody else has written about. Unfortunately, he just got a big break with some publishing company and he's been working on the book for about a month now. Then you showed up, and now everything's good to go. I really hope you don't mind. I just mean, you have a talent just like I - supposedly - do, and so do these other people, so I just thought you might say yes."

I was quiet for a few minutes, letting his words sink in, carefully thinking about how going would affect me, and how it would affect Jake. I picked up the envelope again and checked the return address. Cairnholm Island, Cymru, UK. "Cymru? What's that?" I asked.

"I looked it up; it means 'Wales' in Welsh."

Wales? That far away? I mean, I guess it could be worth it. We supposedly did both have talents, like what Abe had told me. I knew that I was probably his last chance - the chances of Ricky or even Elaina wanting to go all the way to England for Jacob seemed pretty slim, and as far as I knew, I was the only person who knew his real motives. "I'll go." I sighed, finally making my decision.

"Really?" Jacob asked, acting surprised that I had said yes. "You're willing to pay for your own plane ticket and everything?" Oh, I hadn't taken that into consideration. After thinking for a little longer, I nodded, confirming what I had said before.

"Yeah, well, I have some money left over from my dads for this year of college, and I was planning to spend it on gas to drive to Orlando to see them - more than once over the course of the year, of course - and to buy clothes and stuff, but they'll understand. They're always wanting me to get out of the house, anyway. To up and leave Florida for a while is, like, their dream for me. Plus, I've been wanting to go overseas for a while, just to say I have." I chuckled a bit before continuing. "This could mean a lot for the both of us if this... stuff is real."

"So you're seriously serious about this?" Jacob nearly jumped off the bed with excitement.

"Yeah, I guess. When do we leave?"

We would leave on the fifth of July and stay until the twenty-sixth. That would give us enough time to plan the whole trip and we would leave after celebrating the Fourth of July with our friends and family, plus we would have about a week and a half to prepare for college once we got back.

In the weeks leading up to our voyage, Jake and I stocked up on warm clothes and common Cairnholm facts. Jake had told Dr. Golan about our plans, and the psychologist was so supportive of the whole thing. I had called my dads the night I learned about the trip, and they said they would drive down to be with me for a couple days before Jake and I took off. Being typical dads, they teased me about Jacob, but I denied everything they asked about: Was he my boyfriend? My friend with benefits? My baby daddy?

Abe had only made two appearances since we began planning the trip, once to tell me Jacob was finally being sensible about what had happened two years before, and the second time to tell me he wouldn't be able to travel with Jacob across the Atlantic. That was another thing about spirits like Abe, the type who were sent back for unfinished business - once their job was done, they disappeared. As soon as Jacob stepped onto the airplane, Abraham would go back to the spirit world. There were also the type of ghosts that weren't good nor bad, or were equally good and bad, so they were sent to live on earth in the form of a spirit.

The moment I found out that we would have to take a ferry from the mainland to the island, I freaked out. I had only just gotten used to swimming in the ocean - I could barely stand boats. Boats could capsize, or hit something; there were so many ways for a boat to sink. How can anything that heavy float in water? It took the whole rest of the day for Jake and Elaina to calm me down about the issue. Once they put their minds to it, they could be great councilors.

James had called me on the Sunday before our voyage, letting me know that they had just left for Englewood. I got excited butterflies in my stomach when he told me they had a surprise for me. I was anxious about what it could possibly be. It was probably just a parting gift, but coming from my dads it would mean the world to me regardless. However, when they arrived at my motel, I met my surprise - a new, eight-month-old little brother.

My dad and James explained that they had finalized Liam's adoption two weeks after I left Orlando, and I was simply overjoyed, not to mention humored. 'You couldn't even last two weeks without looking after someone', I joked, but I knew they had been planning to adopt for years. The timing was impeccable, in my opinion, because so many amazing things had happened since the beginning of the summer, and I was so looking forward to the rest.

We spent our last day together as one big family, enjoying our Fourth of July with fireworks, a bonfire, and sparklers in the Portman's backyard. It was wonderful, but as we went to bed that night, the day of excitement faded into a night of sadness. We would be leaving at two in the afternoon so we'd be able to arrive at about seven in the morning on the sixth after the roughly thirteen-hour flight. Time zones weren't as confusing as I originally thought.

At the airport fifteen hours later, Jacob hugged his parents 'goodbye' and I did the same to mine and Liam. Everyone was both sad and excited, but there was no way in hell anyone would miss seeing us off. I turned and hugged Elaina and Ricky. He'd really grown on me since we met. I'd miss the ghosts in the backseat of his Crown Vic just as much as I'd miss my new friends. I trusted Maryann and Franklin to keep my Impala safe while I was away since I'd parked it in their driveway before they drove Jake and me to the airport. James' car was filled to the brim with baby supplies, probably because of my dad's constant worrying, so I couldn't ride with them. Abe appeared one last time beside Jake, and my smile broke for a second when he finally faded from existence for good.

I knew that I would be a bit jet lagged when we arrived in Wales, so I slept as much as I could over the duration of the flight. Jacob and I spoke excitedly about what we would do when we arrived on the island for the first whole hour of the flight. We talked about what we would see in hushed voices, what wonders and mysteries were in store for us, making sure that nobody would hear us.

When we landed, my legs were more asleep than I was, and it took the whole hour we spent getting out of the airport and waiting for the ferry to arrive to get them to stop tingling. Finally, it was time. It had been hot in Florida, of course, but I had still worn a sweater and scarf the whole way there to protect myself from the cold of Great Britain. As I saw Jacob shivering on the boat, I knew he regretted calling me an idiot earlier for wearing what I had. I thought about leaving him cold to pay for not dressing warmly, but the sweet little girl in me took over as I handed him the scarf Elaina had picked out for me just the week before.

It was a short time later that one of the sailors interrupted our lesson on the history of the island to alert us that we would be arriving on Cairnholm soon, and I started jumping up and down - partly to keep myself warm in the freezing cold air, but mainly because I just couldn't contain my excitement anymore. I ran to the bow of the ferry, a laughing Jacob trailing behind me, and pointed to the island as the fog finally parted.


	5. Chapter Four

As Jacob and I walked into the Priest Hole, where we had made our reservations to stay for the month, I was greeted with a glass mug half filled with beer being hurled at my head. I ducked to the side and it narrowly missed me, hitting the door frame behind where my head had just been. The island hadn't been anything like I'd expected, what with power generators and old houses, and being surrounded by a graveyard of shipwrecks. But I would make the most of it. Besides, it's not like I was hoping to spend my entire stay watching the island.

I suddenly regretted not asking Abe more about the island before we came, and about the kids he had been with during his stay, but he seemed bothered every time I saw him. If Jake and I were lucky, there still might be some of the children here, despite the fact that they would likely be in their seventies or eighties by now. And as for Miss Peregrine, we'd be lucky if she was even alive. While we'd hoped she'd been still young when she sent the letter, there was something in the way Jacob had said 'maybe she's still alive' that had me doubting her existence.

"Rude!" I called into the pub, probably acting as if I was just as drunk as the men at the bar were. I quickly located the stairs and approached the man behind the bar. Jake followed behind, trying to hide the fact that he was laughing at me. "Hi," I greeted. "I'm Kallie Sanders, and this is Jacob Portman. We rented the room upstairs?" The man nodded and stepped from behind the counter, next to the staircase.

"I'm Kev. Follow me." He smiled as he spoke, then started upstairs, just as I suspected he would. The stairs creaked as we made our way up, and it was all I could do not to drop my heavy suitcase as we went. The stairs were narrow and long, so I was thankful when we made it to the top. I set down my suitcase and rolled it along with me as Kev took us on a tour of our new home. "Sorry about Benny, he got divorced recently and isn't taking it well."

Jacob laughed. "So that's why he's getting so drunk this early." I chuckled as well and set my suitcase down in one of the bedrooms Kev was showing us. I was glad to dispose of the load for now, and would wait until nighttime to unpack it. Jacob took the smaller room, and we met back with Kev in the last room, a kitchen-slash-living-slash-dining area.

"There are oil lamps and candles in the cupboards. The generators go off at ten since that gas costs too damn much. Sorry to say, the bathroom only works most of the time, but Old Reliable is out back." Jake and I looked out the window Kev was pointing at, seeing a ratty old portable toilet in the alley behind the Priest Hole. "Now I'll leave you two lovebirds to settle in-"

"Lovebirds?" Jacob seemed offended. I wasn't offended, but I was tired of hearing the same old assumptions. "No! No, we're just-"

"Cousins," I finished for him. "We were going to check the island out first before anything else, anyway. Thank you so much, Kev." With a chuckle and a nod, the man was gone down the stairs to tend to his customers.

"Cousins?" Jake turned to me when the stairs stopped creaking.

"Well, yeah. Saying 'friends' just makes it seem like we're lying. Nobody would laugh and say 'if you say so' to cousins," I pointed out. Jacob nodded and smiled at me before rolling up the sleeves of his red button up and tugged my scarf tighter around his neck. With a quick laugh, I started down the stairs, a soon followed by my new 'cousin'.

As we left the Priest Hole, I turned to Jacob and looked at my new watch that I'd bought in one of the airport gift shops. It was turned to the proper timezone, and I'd put my other one in my shorts pocket. "So, it's nine in the morning now. I saw a museum on our way here. Should we check it out?"

Jacob shrugged and nodded. "I don't see why not. They may have more information about the children's home, anyway." We began walking down the road in the general direction of the museum, and before long we were making our way in.

The whole building seemed empty. I wasn't really surprised. The door had no Open/Closed sign, so maybe the place was supposed to be closed. Regardless, I started looking around. Hanging out with 'punk rebels' all my life, I could say it's in my nature, but I wasn't half as edgy as I like to think I was. I looked around at the displays, my eyes lingering on some of the more interesting ones, then I finally made my way to the back of the museum. There was a display case that was opaque on all sides except for the top, and as I looked in, my eyes widened with delight. "Jake!"

He came quickly to my side, and as he looking in, I saw him tense up in fear before backing away. What was up? "C-cool." He stuttered out. "What about it?"

"Jake? Are you okay? I just thought that we'd definitely see some crazy stuff around here if you know what I mean. What's-" I was cut off when a hand rested on my shoulder. I twisted around and hurried to Jacob's side.

"Sorry to scare you." The man who had touched my shoulder said. "I'm Martin Pagett, the owner of this here museum. I see you're interested in my old man," he smiled. I smiled back weakly and approached the display case again. I looked at the corpse with admiration. It was so well preserved, but it was hardly possible that it was Martin's 'old man', if he was referring to it as his father. The dead body was so blackened that it looked as if it had been burned before being hidden away in a block of ice.

"He's beautiful," I sighed, more to myself than anyone else. Then I turned to Martin. "How did he die?"

"Well, he was found in the bogs near the old orphanage. Not by me, of course. From the looks of the stone age bow and arrows in his hand, we could guess that he's easily, oh, twenty-seven hundred years old? It's really quite amazing, how well preserved he is. When they first found him, he looked so new that everyone thought there was a killer on the island. Although when it comes down to it, he was killed by disembowelment, strangulation, a head wound, and eventually drowned in the bog."

"Sounds... gruesome," Jacob responded, shivering a little bit. I was so caught up in the Old Man's history that I'd nearly forgotten that he was there.

I thought for a second about what Martin had said, then quickly turned my head to face him. I opened my mouth to speak, but Jacob beat me to it. "You mentioned the children's home?" Martin nodded.

"Yes, what about it?"

"We're actually here to see it. Jake's grandpa lived there for a time, so this is like a little genealogy investigation for us. What can you tell us about it?" I was overtaken by excitement again, nearly bouncing with impatience for his answer.

Martin chuckled at my eagerness before responding. "I can't tell you much about it myself, but my Uncle Oggie can. He was just young when it was bombed."

Jacob was paralyzed in a state of shock, his face paling noticeably. "B-bombed?" I managed to stutter out, feeling as shocked as Jake looked. Martin looked between the two of us with worry.

"Yes, that's what I said. Is there something wrong?" I looked to Jacob and rested a hand on his shoulder. Turning back to Martin with a small smile, I spoke instead of Jake.

"We didn't know is all, we were hoping we could talk to someone who lived there. Did anyone survive?" I knew it was silly to ask, but we needed to know, just in case someone did live through it.

"Negative," Martin frowned, "but Oggie can tell you all you need to know if you would like." I looked at Jake for the 'okay'.

"I guess," came his response, accompanied by a sigh. I smiled at him before turning back to Martin.

"Alright, let's go."

After an unsettling chat with Martin's uncle Oggie, Jacob and I decided to go back to the Priest Hole and unpack while we talked about what to do next. The information we had received was unsettling, and hardly gave us any hope of finding anyone who could have lived. Apparently, the only survivor was Abraham Portman. However, there was the letter addressed to Abe from Miss Peregrine after the bombing had happened: what was going on?

"We must be crazy, Jake," I said through the open doorway between our rooms, then sighed as I shoved my final articles of clothes into the drawer and closed it. "Are you sure this isn't just a prank someone's pulling on us?"

"Of course I'm not, Kallie," came his nonchalant response as he shoved his suitcase under his bed.

"It's just-"

Jake cut me off. "You think I haven't thought about this too? He was my grandpa! You have no idea how jealous I am of you: you can see the one person who understood me. My own parents thought I was crazy!" he shouted as he stormed into my room. I must have accidentally hit a nerve or something. I stood up straight and turned around before placing my hands on my hips, shifting most of my weight onto my right foot.

"I'm aware of that, but at least I'm not keeping it to myself. I could have just not told you about him and we wouldn't even be here!" That opened his eyes and he calmed down a bit.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry, okay? I know I wouldn't have made it this far without you." I smiled a bit and stepped toward him, hugging him gently. This boy was the older brother I never knew I wanted.

"It's alright. I know you miss him. And we're gonna destroy the son of a bitch who killed him," I said, and felt him nod before I stepped back and continued, "after we search the home."

"C'mon, Kal!" Jake called from almost ten yards in front of me. Just as we had left to check out the house, it had started raining. By the time we had made it to the forest, it was pouring, and I was drenched and miserable. Stupid shitty British weather.

Mud sloshed around under my boots and splattered onto my legs every time I raised them to take another step because of the suction. I was shivering; I wouldn't be too surprised if I woke up with a cold in the morning.

"Go on without me!" I shouted back to him almost being drowning out by the thundering rain. "I'll come back tomorrow." With that, I turned and headed back to town.

I felt like the rain had beaten me down to the bones by the time I had arrived back at the Priest Hole, but thankfully it had let up a bit, and the sun was finally shining by the time I got to my room and looked through the window.

"I hope he's alright," I said to no one in particular. There was something unsettling about the thought of leaving Jacob to go it alone. It was where his grandpa had gone to flee the war - and potentially more. The entire place could be a trigger.

As I thought about it more, I realized the same could go for me. If Martin's uncle was right and everyone died, the place would be littered with the ghosts of children. It was depressing enough to see the souls of the dead, but the mere thought of seeing children's spirits just as dead as their mortal bodies after all these years nearly broke my heart.

I must have dozed off because it was four thirty in the afternoon when Jacob shook me awake. I was about to speak when he handed me a steaming bowl of chicken soup.

"You're burning up, Kal. Have this then get back to sleep. Otherwise, you won't be able to go back tomorrow." I nodded and took the bowl from him, cherishing the warmth it brought me on this surprisingly cold summer day.

It was then that I noticed how dry my throat felt, and even though the soup burned my mouth, it was a welcome sensation as it slid down my throat, warming me from the inside out. "Thanks," I croaked as my throat was still a bit dry, "but if Kev made this, I wouldn't be too surprised if it's got some sort of alcohol in it for an extra kick." Jacob chuckled at my words.

"Hey, at least we're allowed to drink here. The legal age in England is eighteen, remember?" I shrugged before taking another spoonful of soup.

"I'm still seventeen until October thirtieth, remember?" I pointed out, and it was Jacob's turn to shrug as I spooned more broth into my mouth. I was already feeling better on the inside: my legs no longer felt sore from walking with heavy boots; my hands and feet didn't feel so cold anymore; my ears had stopped ringing - I hadn't even noticed that they were until it stopped.

Everything was quiet for a few more minutes as Jacob sat on the end of my bed, thinking deeply while I ate my soup. I had nearly emptied the bowl when he spoke again. "Hey, wanna play 'Twenty Questions'?" he asked. I looked up, startled.

"Excuse me?" I countered. "Why?"

"I don't know..." he started. "To get our minds off of this mess, I guess. Besides, we may be like, best friends, but we only know the boring stuff about each other. I want to know what makes you Kallie Sanders." I laughed at that, then set the empty soup bowl down on the table next to the bed.

"Alright. You go first then."

Jake pondered for a moment, searching for the best ice breaking question. Finally, it came to him. "What was your first thought when you woke up this morning?"

It took me less time to respond. "'I'm in England, bitches.'" I said, then giggled a bit. Jacob gave me an incredulous look before I asked my question. "Did you have any embarrassing nicknames when you were growing up?"

He could barely meet my eyes, and a shy smile came to his face. "Fairy Boy." I suppressed a chuckle at his response. Before I could ask the origin of the name, he started explaining. "My grandpa told me stories of the house but made them sound like fairy tales since I was only young. My one mistake was repeating them at school."

"Cute," I commented, still laughing a little. "I think you already told me about this, though. When we first met and we were talking in that graveyard?"

"Oh, yeah!" He smiled as he remembered. "Well, what about you? Did you have any embarrassing nicknames?" he asked in return, looking at me with a cheeky grin. I rolled my eyes and looked away before replying.

"It's more embarrassing now than it was then, but everyone called me Kalico Cat - that's 'calico' with a 'k' - since my first name is Kallie and my middle name is Constance - Kallie-Co. Plus, a bunch of people called me Connie as a shortened version of Constance, just to bug me. I never liked that because it made me sound like a grandma."

Jacob had returned the favor and laughed at my answer, just as I had at his. "Now we're going to be calling each other these names religiously. However, I may stick with 'Ghost Girl'," he said, and I laughed again, remembering the nickname he had given me when I first told him about my talent.

"If you say so, Fairy Boy," I teased, then continued on. "What do you think your 'peculiarity' is?" I asked, then realized I genuinely wanted to know what it was. Even Abe didn't know what it was. Or maybe he did. Regardless, it was too late to ask.

"I don't know, maybe it's seeing those monster things that... you know." I nodded, realizing it was too sensitive of a subject to talk about openly. Abe really meant a lot to Jake. "Alright, do you have any other talents?"

I think for a moment before responding. "Well, you already know that I'm a damn good artist. I'm actually going to major in art in college. I'm pretty good at playing piano, too. I quit taking lessons when I was nine so I could take guitar, but I never got into it. Most of what I know now is just a bunch of band music and movie scores. Like, I can play Victor's piano solo from 'Corpse Bride', and a bunch of My Chemical Romance. And, I mean, yeah, some classic stuff." Jacob chuckled.

"You don't look like you'd be into that sort of stuff," he pointed out. I shrugged, a cheeky smile on my lips.

"There's a lot of stuff you don't know about me."

We carried on like that for a while, learning more about each other as the night went on. I felt lucky that I finally had someone to look up to, even though Jacob was only a few months older than me. I had always wanted an older brother; I had voiced as much. I was glad that there were no hidden feelings or misunderstandings between us. We were like family.

As we settled into our separate beds that night, I remembered the reason why we came here in the first place. We weren't supposed to be bonding - not really, anyway. We were supposed to be looking for clues as to what happened all those years ago. Dread filled my body, weighing me down like a sack of bricks. I was nowhere near prepared to go to the house tomorrow, and even if I managed to find my way to a mental state where I was ready, I was still a little feverish. As if things couldn't get any worse for me, it started raining outside and it felt like the temperature dropped ten degrees.

I tried not to think about the house or the island. I thought instead about Elaina Hamilton and Ricky Pickering back in Englewood, and Theresa Delgado and the ghost of Seth Fowler in Orlando. I listened to the rain, willing it to soothe me into a deep, dreamless sleep. It relaxed me alright, but my slumber was far from dreamless.


	6. Chapter Five

The next morning, I was feeling much better, though I still had frequent coughing bouts throughout the morning. All through our breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon burnt to a crisp and coffee that was too bitter and probably had some sort of alcohol mixed in, Jacob and I remained silent, having a conversation with only our eyes. We had decided before going down to the bar that we would go back to the old house regardless of the weather. Fortunately, the rain had stopped overnight.

When Jacob and I finally left the Priest Hole, almost immediately a large, blueish hawk swooped down right in front of us, scaring the living shit out of Jake and causing me to let out a loud shriek. "What the fuck was that?" I cried when I'd regained some sanity."I don't know," Jacob replied, still breathing deeply. "Judging by the blue feathers and yellow beak, I think it was a peregrine falcon." I gave him a quizzical look. Since when did he know so much about birds? "What?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch in defense. "My dad was really into birds for a while. It kinda rubbed off on me, so what?" I only shook my head and laughed before continuing on./p

"I don't know," Jacob replied, still breathing deeply. "Judging by the blue feathers and yellow beak, I think it was a peregrine falcon." I gave him a quizzical look. Since when did he know so much about birds? "What?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch in defense. "My dad was really into birds for a while. It kinda rubbed off on me, so what?" I only shook my head and laughed before continuing on.

We were barely in the forest when I grew uncomfortable and had to stop. "Ugh, that bed was hardly comfortable. My back's killing me." Jake smirked.

"Tell me about it - and you got the good bed." I smiled sheepishly in response, and Jacob returned the gesture. We continued on through the forest, left over mud puddles making the trek more treacherous for our cleanliness. We carried on in silence for a while before I broke it.

"So, what did you find yesterday?"

"Nothing. The place is empty. Well, I mean, I didn't check the upstairs because I wanted to get back quick. I didn't check the basement either. It was dark and creepy. You took the flashlight back with you, so there wasn't much I could do." I nodded.

"I guess that makes sense. But you did a shit job of actually looking around, y'know."

Jake chuckled a bit at my response. "Well, yeah, but it didn't feel right doing it without you. We came here together so we could both get answers. I want you to be with me every step of the way." He paused for a second, thinking about what he'd just said. "Damn, that sounded cheesy."

"Yeah, but I know what you mean. We're like siblings. I didn't think it seemed very fair either." Jake nodded, then turned to me again, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie.

"Are you gonna be alright? I mean, they're all dead, so there are gonna be a bunch of ghosts-"

"I know, Jake. I've been thinking about it all morning. I'm not going to be fine, but I'll go through with it. I'm not a baby; I can do things for myself."

Jacob raised his hands out of his pockets in defense. "Alright, alright, I was just checking." He put his hands back in his pockets and I hid my hands in the only slightly too-long sleeves of my hoodie. "I can't say I understand how you feel, but I know it'll be tough. I mean, they're dead, yeah, but they were only kids. That's gotta be tough."

"Just shut up, alright? You're not making anything better for me." I was getting sick and tired of all the sympathy. I'd rather be alone with my thoughts, and that was saying something, seeing as my thoughts weren't always the nicest. I just wished Jake would shut up already about the ghosts. Telling me that there would be ghosts was like walking up to a person with a broken leg and informing them that their leg is, in fact, broken. It's a shitty waste of time.

Before long we took a sharp turn in the path and broke through the trees. There it was, in all its glory, Miss Peregrine's orphanage. In ruins. It was clear to me that no one had lived here in years. The hill the house sat atop was littered with weeds. Trees were growing through windows and vines had taken over the crumbly brick walls. Parts of the roof were completely collapsed, the wooden front porch was rotting, and the windows were all cracked and shattered.

Jacob grabbed my wrist and lead me around the house, and it seemed to grow and change as we went along, until Jacob found what he was looking for: a doorway with no door gaping open, nearly blocked by broken vines. They were probably only broken because Jacob had done so to get in, but I wasn't going to question it.

"So... this is it," I said a little scared of the dark, looming house. Jacob nodded and headed towards the doorway. I followed quickly after.

"Yesterday I checked a little around the ground floor, but I can't see ghosts, so I don't know if I missed anything or not. So, can you check around down here and I'll try upstairs?" he offered. I nodded.

"Sure thing." With that, he took off, carefully making his way up the stairs to make sure they wouldn't splinter under his feet. Once I was sure he would be alright, I heading through a doorway to my right into a moth-eaten living room area.

I searched all of what I could of the ground floor, backtracking, of course, when I reached the end of a certain series of rooms. Surprisingly enough, there were no signs of ghosts or anything remotely supernatural at all in the entire house. Then I heard a crash.

I quickly rushed back to the main hall where I saw dust settling. "Jacob!" I cried, rushing to the hole in the floor where the dust was coming from. Was he alright? Had he fallen through? I was terrified, then confused when I looked through to see no sign of him.

"I'm fine, I'm up here!" I heard Jake's voice call from above, then looked up to see him waving down to me from the balcony. He quickly made his way back down to meet me at the hole. I grabbed him as soon as he was at arms length and pulled him into a hug.

"You scared the shit out of me," I breathed, then let go of him. "What was it?"

"Flashlight," Jacob commanded without answering my question. I handed it to him after taking it out of my pocket, then watched as he shimmied precariously to the edge of the hole on his belly and shone the flashlight through. "It was a locked trunk, full of..." he paused, looking closer at the mess on the floor. I joined him and squinted when I saw small papers among the wreckage.

"Pictures," we said in unison, finally seeing the shapes of faces and bodies on those of which were upturned.

I got up, then waited for Jacob to do so as well. "Well, looks like we've got to go down there," he said reluctantly.

"Hey, at lease we've got the flashlight now." Jake shrugged and smiled, though I could still see the fear in his eyes. I didn't blame him. It was dark, and already I could smell a terrible odor drifting up through the hole.

We made our way down the slowly rotting steps, never letting go of each other's hand in case one of us fell through. We made it to the bottom, though, where the acrid stench from above only grew stronger. It was as if an eleventh-grade biology room got blown up along with the house. I took the flashlight from Jacob's shaking hand and began walking, Jacob following behind. I nearly tripped as soon as I took a step. Jake grabbed my arm to steady me and I shone the light down to see a jar of murky greenish liquid rolling away from me. Creepy.

I decided then to shine the flashlight on the floor in front of us as well, making sure there were no more holes nor any other obstacles to get in our way. As we continued walking, I shone my flashlight right, then left. When it went left, a wall emerged, with shelves and shelves of jars. Jake and I neared the wall, and I nearly screamed. What I thought were preserved fruits and vegetables were the organs of some indeterminate species.

I dropped the flashlight, causing it to flicker a bit before Jacob crouched to pick it up again, then smacked it a couple times to restore its original strength. There were at least a hundred jars along the walls, filled with hearts, brains - even eyes - all floating around in the same rotten-pickle-formaldehyde mix. Well, at least we knew where the smell was coming from. I don't even want to know whose they were or why they were there. Perhaps this was why we saw no bodies laying around. Perhaps it was better that nobody had survived.

We carried on and rounded a corner, and then I realized it - I hadn't seen any ghosts. None at all; not outside, not on the ground floor nor the balcony, and now none in the basement - not even one. It was almost impossible for that to happen - if there were as many children there as I thought there was, at least one of them should have remained a ghost. "Jacob," I whispered. He turned to me, and his face seemed like it was illuminated by more than just the light from the flashlight. I looked over my shoulder to see the hole in the floor - well, ceiling now - not too far off. I turned back. "No ghosts." That was all I had to say for his eyes to widen.

Our pace quickened until we reached the wreckage Jacob had caused, and we began picking through the debris, looking at all the pictures. They seemed normal - if not incredibly candid - at first, just people lounging about on beaches and posing in front of fake-looking backdrops like in family pictures, save for the fact that all the pictures were of children. It was like looking into a Tim Burton themed photo album. They were creepy in a very endearing sort of way, with eerie dolls and vacant expressions; never smiling, always straight-faced.

I looked to Jacob to see if he had the same reaction. He, in fact, did not. "I remember these," he whispered to himself before turning to me. "My grandfather had pictures just like these," he informed me, then showed me the ones he had in his hands. A floating girl with a tiara, a boy lifting a boulder, and another boy covered in bees. I nodded.

"I... I think you told me about these people when you were talking about your grandpa's stories in the graveyard when we first met." I picked up more photos: a girl trapped in a bottle, another girl standing at the side of a pond with two girls being reflected back. "What about these?" I ask, handing them to Jacob and picking up another of some terrifying clown twins. I was absolutely petrified by clowns.

"Not these two," he said quietly, looking at the photos in his hands, then looked at mine. "But those guys I remember. My grandpa had a picture almost just like that!" Suddenly, we heard a loud crash from above. I reached for the flashlight and shut it off, then held my breath for a few seconds, gripping Jake's forearm with my other hand.

I sighed. "Just the house setting," I said, then let go of his arm and set down the flashlight, just in time for another crash and all light from the hole above was blocked. We were bathed in darkness. I froze, and I assumed Jacob had done the same, because when we heard footsteps, they came from above. When we heard voices, they were neither of ours.

I heard a small rustling next to me, coming from Jacob's jeans. My eyes began to adjust a little to see him shifting his weight from one leg to the other, probably to get his circulation flowing again or something of the sort. I moved for myself just the tiniest bit, then wanted to slap myself across the face when the smallest piece of debris rolled away from the pile, creating a noise that sounded like an earthquake in the silence. The voices stopped.

The footsteps made their way over to Jake and me, and when one of the floorboards moaned under the weight of a footstep, dry plaster flakes drifted down into our hair. Then silence. Then, "Abe? Is that you?"

I looked at Jake, and though I couldn't really see him, I knew he was probably looking back at me. I looked up, then, hoping for the girl's voice to call out again, but it was all silent again. And then there was a light from above us, coming from a lantern of some sort. Six figures were gathered around the hole, peering in at Jake and I. They seemed a little familiar, but I paid no mind - how did they know Jacob's grandfather's name?

Looking closer at them - and by looking closer, I mean squinting - I noticed their odd, old looking clothing and unsmiling faces, then looked back down at the photographs at my feet, puzzle pieces putting themselves together in my head. I looked at the photograph I still held in my hands, growing damp with sweat, them back up at the girl who seemed to be in control of the light. They were the same people. These were the children from the pictures.

The girl stood, probably for better perspective, or maybe to get away from my slightly scrutinizing gaze. I then noticed the odd thing about the light she was in control of - it wasn't a lantern, nor was it a candle. It was just... fire, cradled in her hands and not even burning her skin. She frowned, then murmured to the other children. Clearly, we were not who they were expecting.

"H-hello!" I called up, finally regaining the ability to speak, but as soon as the stuttered word left my lips, they all turned and left, running across the threshold, away from the hole and towards the exit.

"Wait!" Jake cried, and we both jolted up with a start. I nearly left the flashlight behind before I ran up the stairs after Jake. By the time we had reached the top, the children were gone.

We hurried outside in quick pursuit, all the while shouting variations of "wait, stop!" before realizing it was useless. That was until a twig cracked in a nearby section of the surrounding forest. Both Jake and I looked in the direction it came from to see the white hem of the flame-girl's dress. Without a second glance to each other, both Jake and I ran off after her.

They were alive! That was why there were no ghosts. It all made sense! We followed after the girl, down various twists and turns she took to lose us, but it would be no use. She seemed to be barefoot, and both Jacob and I were wearing running shoes. Of course, just as we drew near her, she turned, running straight into the muddy bog. And, of course, we needed to follow her. Otherwise, our entire trip would have been for nothing.

The bog was a genius idea - for the girl. For Jake and I, it was hell. We could barely run a yard without some sort of obstacle, be it general mud puddles or full on sink holes. Yet the girl made her way through with ease, knowing exactly where to step as to not get completely devoured by mud as Jacob and I had. When she finally disappeared in the rising mist, we only had the imprints her feet had made on the muddy ground to follow.

I kept hoping that she would gain some sense and head back to the path, but the girl seemed insistent on going through the bog. Then we were engulfed in the mist and all hope was instantly sucked into the mud. We were lost.

"I'm Jacob Portman!" Jake began shouting. I was out of breath, so much so that I could barely breathe and essentially just wanted to throw myself into a mud hole to die. "I'm Abe's grandson, I won't hurt you!" His words were lost in the fog.

We slowed down then - following what few footprints we could see at a time - until we came across a large cave made of many stones. It was a cairn, I realized, one of the ones that Cairnholm itself was named after. I was certainly shorter than the cairn, but it was only a small bit taller than Jacob - perhaps an inch or so taller than him. Ornate designs had been engraved around the tunnel's mouth and an inscription was scrawled in some long-forgotten language. Jacob and I shared a look, then he stepped in. I, of course, followed.

"The girl's footsteps continued on, though it was nearly impossible to tell, as the light was nearly all gone by the time we had both squeezed in. The tunnel was small enough that we had to walk kind of like apes, and I wasn't sure whether I was offended or not. Eventually, it grew so dark that I handed Jake the flashlight so he could see where we were going.

"We mean you no harm," he kept on repeating to the girl, shining the light down the tunnel and shambling on, but his words only came echoing back. At least that meant we would reach a wall soon.

My thoughts were cut short when Jacob stood up, so I did too, only to see that we were in a pretty wide cave about the size of Jake's bedroom. There was no sign of the girl. "What the fuck - where the hell did she go?" I ask, spinning in slow circles as I neared the center of the chamber. Finally, Jacob grabbed my arm.

"Kal," he started, grabbing my attention and looking into my eyes with worry. "Are we going crazy?" I think about his words. I wanted to deny it, but it was the only explanation that made any sense.

As we made our way back on our hands and knees, I remained silent, thinking hard about what had just happened. Of course: we wanted to see something so bad that our minds made it up. Maybe they were ghosts? That wouldn't make sense, of course - Jacob had seen them too. Hallucinations? No, the likelihood of two people having the exact same hallucination was incredibly improbable. Well, whatever it was, there was no reason for Jake and me to stay on the island any longer. We had no more reasons to stay.


	7. Chapter Six

I squinted as I finally crawled out of the tunnel, which was odd, considering the fact that when we had entered the cairn the sky was still overcast from the rain earlier on that morning and there was fog everywhere. Now the sky was blue and the sun was out and for once it really felt like summer. I shared a look with Jake, who only shrugged, before heading back to the path.

Surprisingly enough, the bog was dry, though since I wasn't dashing through in a hurry anymore, I could see a few ghosts lingering here and there. The only muddy brown slosh to be seen was the plethora of animal shits littering the path. How was it possible for the weather to change this drastically in such a short amount of time? Alright, so maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe I was just dreaming and was really back in the Priest Hole's uncomfortable bed.

When we finally emerged from the forest, we really began to notice that something was up. No wonder there was so much dung in the forest: all the tractors pulling loads of carts of various fish and goods had been replaced by horses and donkeys that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. There was no more droning from the diesel generators, either. Jacob and I had only been gone for an hour or two, so how was it possible that all the gas had run out?

As we made our way into town, I couldn't help but notice all the odd stares that Jacob and I were given. Then I realized how unsightly we must look, what with all the mud and plaster that coated our bodies. We hurried our pace so that we could make it to the Priest Hole faster and finally get away from all these looks.

It was safe to say that we both wanted to go home, so after we cleaned ourselves off well enough, we would pack and head back to the mainland on the next ferry. As we entered, I paid no mind to the drunks huddled around the tables, clutching their drinks. I only got a couple steps up the stairs when an unfamiliar voice called out. "Where d'you two think yer going?"

I turned to look first at Jake, then the unfamiliar man who stood behind the bar. Where was Kev? The man was wearing a bartender's apron, and with a single bushy eyebrow and a caterpillar mustache, I tried not to laugh. He looked kind of like a wanna-be tiger.

"Just up to our room," Jake replied, sounding just about as confused as I felt.

"Oh, really?" Asked the man, slamming the glass he was wiping down on the bar. "Whaddaya think this is? An 'otel?" With that, some of the men at the tables turned to face us, and it was then that I realized they were all just as unfamiliar as the man talking to us.

"N-no, sir?" I replied with more of a question than an answer, coming down the stairs to stand next to Jake. "We've got the room upstairs." I searched around in the pocket opposite to where I'd stashed the flashlight. "I've got the key right here, see?"

The man snatched it out of my hand and gave it a quick once-over. "It ain't ours," he said with a menacing frown before pocketing it for himself. "Now whaddaya want? Don't lie to me!" I grew angry and quite embarrassed at his words. Was he fucking kidding me?

"We already told you," Jacob started, "we rented those rooms. Didn't Kev tell you that?"

"Who the hell is Kev? I don't know no Kev," the man, now very visibly enraged, growled. "I'm the only one who lives up there. Quit tellin' lies, boy. You too, bitch. I ain't takin' it from either o' ya'." I looked to the men at the tables again, but no one was going to come to our rescue. After that bitch comment, I really want to give this guy a punch to the face.

"They're American," one man pointed out before taking a swig of his beer, the liquid pouring out the sides of the mug and dripping into his beard.

"They could be from the army!" another shouted, sounding worried.

"Bollocks, a girl in the army? Even if they are, they're both scrawny as 'ell." The bearded one spoke again, some drunken slur about Jacob's jacket that I could barely understand.

I finally spoke up again. "Listen, okay? We're not in the army, I swear! All we want to do is get our stuff and go, okay?" Apparently, it wasn't okay, because one of the larger men got up from his seat and stood between us and the door, making it obvious that we weren't going to be able to leave without a fight.

"American, my arse!" he cried, chuckling a little in a deep, gravely voice. "Their accents are absolute rubbish! I'll wager they're spies. For the Jerries!" Gasps from the more drunk men arose around the room.

"Makes sense," said the bearded man. "A seductress and an assassin to finish us off, eh?"

"We're not spies!" I shout, getting more upset than ever with that incredibly sexist and uncalled for remark. "Just... lost."

The man by the door chuckled again. "Damn right, you're lost. Let's get the truth out of 'em the old fashioned way: with a rope!" There were more shouts of agreement than I was comfortable with at the proposition. Well, I would have been uncomfortable with just one shout in agreement, but no matter what, I was beginning to really fear for my life. Before I could think of anything, Jacob grabbed my wrist and ran for the door, darting around the man who stood between. He grabbed at my hoodie and managed to tear the sleeve almost clean off, but I made it out alive. Thank. God.

Jacob tugged me down the street until my brain finally caught up with my feet, and thank goodness we were so scared and so young and so sober, as I was sure we had outrun the few men who had already begun chasing us by the first turn we took. I didn't even notice all the crazy looks Jake and I were getting because I was scared shitless and there was no way in hell I was going to get caught by these men - who most likely saw a gang bang in their future.

We managed to vault our way over a small wall and nearly run into a man driving a speeding cart. He yelled out some obscenity about our mothers and I really had to fight the urge to turn around and agree, but we were running past his horse mere seconds later and there was just no time. I was losing my mind - I was sure of it now. I was pulling some 'Alice in Wonderland' shit right here, dreaming of some twisted world, except for me it was much scarier because this seemed too fucking real to be fake.

Finally, Jake found an alley that would lead us to the edge of town and we dove for cover there. We slowed our pace, though I was nearly jogging to catch up with his quick walk. Hopefully we would attract less attention now. Unfortunately, we were both to jumpy and excitable for that to be even remotely possible, because with every roll of a pebble, we would both jump, afraid that the men had caught up to us.

Then a noise that didn't come from either of us sounded and Jacob pulled me into an outhouse. There were crude remarks and very vague phrases gracing the walls of the small enclosure. We breathed unison sighs of relief when we saw it was just and old dog. Jake was the first to step out, and I followed soon after, only to be kicked in the back of the knee, sending me toppling to the ground with nothing more than a gasp of pain.

"Scream and I'll cut you," I hear a girl's voice from above. I squint up in the general direction it came from - still clutching my knee - to see the same girl from before holding Jacob up against the wall of the outhouse with a knife to him neck. "Both of you," she finished, risking a glance at me. I nod, clearly too weak and out of breath to argue, and pull myself up to rest my back against the outhouse. I looked closer at the girl, and damn, she was gorgeous. "What are you?" she asked, hatred dripping through her voice.

"We're - uh, Americans?" Jacob stammered, trying not to say the wrong thing for fear of getting sliced by that knife. "I-I'm Jacob, and this is Kallie." I raised a hand in a weak wave. I could tell this girl was clearly opposed to shaking my hand. She gave me a look of disdain and pressed the knife harder against Jake's neck. Shit.

"What were you doing in that house? Why were you chasing me?" she demanded.

"We wanted to speak with you," I replied weakly, afraid for Jacob that if he spoke he would end up cutting his own neck. "Don't kill him, please."

The girl scowled down at me. "I asked him," she said, jerking her head in Jacob's direction before fixing her menacing gaze back on him. "What did you want to talk with me about?"

"Th-the house," Jake stammered out, careful not to nick his skin with the knife. "The people who lived there?" Almost instantly the girl replied.

"Who sent you here?"

"My grandpa, Abraham Portman," Jake replied, growing more and more nervous. The girl's mouth fell open.

"That's a lie!" she shouted, and I could have sworn I actually yelped. "I'm not an idiot, I know who you really are. Show me your eyes, open them, let me see your real eyes!"

Jacob did as she said and opened his eyes wider, and I slid up the wall - using it for support as my knee was still throbbing - and did the same. "I - we are! They are!" She looked directly into my eyes and stood on her tiptoes to see Jake's.

"No, your real eyes, you nitwits!" She stamped her foot in frustration. "Those fakes don't fool me, nor does your clearly false lie about Abe!"

"We're not lying, we promise," I exclaimed, still a little wary about talking after how she was acting, especially towards me. "And these are our real eyes!" I could tell by then that Jacob was now struggling even to breathe without getting cut by the knife in the girl's hand. If I knew it wouldn't end disastrously, I would have knocked it right out of her grasp then and there, but I was petrified.

"We're not whatever you think we are," Jake said quietly. "I can prove it." The girl and I watched as he reached for his pocket. I knew then what he was getting at.

The girl looked between us. "You'd better not try anything. I will not hesitate to slit your throat." Jake shook his head gently then slipped his hand into his pocket. The girl rose her knife between his eyes and frowned.

"It's just a letter, relax!" I told her, nearly shouting as I did so. Giving me a hateful glare, the girl returned the knife to its original position at Jake's neck as he withdrew the letter from his pocket and handed it to her.

"This is partly why I came here. My grandpa gave it to me. He said it was from the... Bird? That's your headmistress, right?" The girl took the meager offering and looked it over, picture and all.

It took a moment for her to glance over it before turning back to us. "You expect me to believe this? It doesn't prove a thing! How do you know so much about us?"

"I told you-" I cut Jake off, turning to him.

"Jake, it's obvious that she thinks we're bullshitting her. Shut up before you hit a nerve or something."

Jacob merely glared at me in a way that said 'shut up, I can handle this' before turning back to the girl. "My grandfather-" he was cut off when Emma pressed the knife harder than ever against his neck. I was afraid that it would draw blood, but apparently, its blade was dull.

"Enough!" she cried. Everything was silent. I was right, he had hit a nerve for sure. It was quiet for another moment before shouts erupted at the other end of the alley. The men, they'd found us. They were clearly still drunk, but each had some sort of farm related weapon in their hands. "Oh, what have you two done?" she said with an annoyed sigh, loosening her hold on Jacob.

"Clearly you're not the only one who wants our heads on silver platters," I said - with perhaps a little too much confidence and sass - before the girl sheathed the knife in a pocket by her side and grabbed us both so tightly by our shirt collars that escape would be nearly impossible unless we were to strip down.

"Well, you both are my prisoners now. Do as I say or face the dire consequences." Clearly, neither Jacob nor I were about to argue with her. Neither option was favorable, but at least we would get answers from the girl. If we were around that long. Thank god she'd given Jake his letter back so we would have it for later - just in case.

She pushed us forward into a connecting alley, then before long she pulled us aside and somehow we all managed to jump a chicken-wire fence into some safe looking yard. "Come along," she ordered in a hushed tone, then pushed us through the back door. I didn't have any time to look around before we were hiding, slammed up against the wall. I was, quite honestly, scared as hell. So scared that I kept my eyes shut tight. Jacob and I were being held captive by the lesser of two evils in a world that didn't seem to be ours anymore. We listened for anything that could pose a threat to us.

The voices of the men drifted through the thin wall, varying in nearness every so often. It was almost impossible to pinpoint exactly where they were coming from. My eyes still screwed shut, my heart still beating out of my chest, I heard Jacob speak. "What year is it?"

"Shut up," came the girl's response.

"I'm serious," Jake replied in a whisper. I peeked one eye open, but already the pain in my knee was back and the world was beginning to spin, so I shut it again.

"I don't know what you're getting at. Go see for yourself." Footsteps - Jacob's.

I heard a whisper. "September third, nineteen-forty." I passed out.

A prodding in my side woke me up. I opened my eyes to see Jacob looking at me with concern. I smiled, then frowned as I realized we were sat up next to each other, bound to the cooking range. I heard two quite animated voices and kept my eyes shut, listening in on the conversation.

"They have to be wights!" the girl said. "Why else would they have been sneaking around the old house?"

"I haven't even the slightest idea," another, unfamiliar voice replied, one of a male. "However, it seems that they haven't either." I opened my eyes to see where the voice was coming from, only to meet the image of a completely naked guy, no older than myself. Instead of screaming, I kept my eyes closed. What was going on? Why was the girl so comfortable talking to him? "You did say they didn't even realize they were in a loop?" he continued.

"Can't you see for yourself? Can you really imagine any of Abe's relatives being so... clueless?" Well, clearly she was talking about Jacob.

The naked boy continued. "Can you imagine a wight?" Wight...

The conversation continued on, but I paid no attention. Where had I heard that term before? Not used as a color, of course. This time, it seemed different, like it was negatively referring to a race of some sort... Of course! I'd heard Abraham talking about them when he was talking about what killed him. About Carl... I rarely spoke to Gladys again after that incident. I couldn't risk meeting the same fate as Abe... I heard light footsteps coming towards me and was met with a long, wet tongue brushing against my face.

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed, opening my eyes to see an old dog giving Jake the same treatment as me.

"Oh, look, you're up!" the girl said to both of us, then began clapping, clearly sarcastic. "What a performance you both gave earlier. Both of you fainting? Genius! I'm sorry the theater lost two marvelous actors when you two decided to turn to murder and cannibalism."

"Okay, seriously, what the fuck?" I asked again, obviously confused. The naked guy then made his way over with two glasses of water. He set them down and began untying Jake and me from the cooking range before picking up the glasses again.

"That's quite the mouth you've got. The Bird certainly won't be happy. Regardless, have some water. Can't have you dy-"

I cut him off, glancing away. "Not until you put on some goddamn clothes, dude." I heard a gasp then looked to the girl, curious as to why she was shocked at my request. "What?"

"Y-you can see me?" the naked guy asked, the remaining glass of water falling and shattering, leaving a wet mess on the floor. Still trying to avoid looking at him, I replied.

"Well, yeah. I'm not blind." The girl crossed her arms across her chest at my response.

"Alright, maybe you two aren't lying after all." I looked at her for clarification, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "He's supposed to be invisible."

I turned my gaze onto the face of the supposedly invisible boy. "Oh, well, sorry about that. Now, can you please put something on?" He blushed, then turned to the couch, where he took the blanket resting on the back and wrapped around his waist. "Much better."

"Well, I'm terribly sorry about my apparent indecency. Millard Nullings, at your service." With that, he extended a hand to me and I don't know why, but it didn't seem morally right to not shake it, so I did. I mean, the poor guy put on clothes for me. I supposed it was the least I could do. "This is Emma. She's quite... paranoid, though I'm sure you've gathered as much by now." I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"Clearly," I said, and Emma was about to say something before loud shouts were heard from outside. Emma shushed everyone as Millard made his way across the threshold to peek out the window. I was still having trouble believing he was invisible, but I supposed if they all said he was, then it would have been a lot more useful for all of them if I wasn't there. At least no one would see him peeping on whatever was happening outside.

"What's happening?" Emma asked.

"They're searching the houses, so we can't stay here for long," Millard replied before turning away from the window and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, we can't just... leave!"

Millard looked thoughtful for a moment then looked out the window again. "Actually, I think we may be able to. However, I'll check my book, just for certainty." He left the window and picked up a small, leather-bound book from the table. It was funny to see Jacob's reactions to everything happening. I supposed to him it looked like everything was floating or doing it by themselves.

After a few moments of flipping through the journal, Millard shut it. "Perfect! Only a minute or so now and we'll be able to walk straight through the door!"

"You can't be serious!" I exclaimed. "They'll kill us if we do that!" Millard looked at me with a smirk.

"Not if we're less interesting than what's going to happen." Jacob and I were very confused at that point, but realization dawned on Emma's face as several engines started outside.

"You're a genius, Millard!" She exclaimed, daring a peek out the window for herself.

Millard looked smug as he sniffed a little. "And there you were, saying that I was wasting my time studying." Emma rolled her eyes and turned to Jake and me.

"You two, take my arm. Don't run away, just act normal, alright?" I was glad that her knife was still safely put away in her pocket. Millard returned the blanket to its original position and I knew I would have to look away from him at all times. "Get ready," Emma warned, before opening the door.

When we stepped outside, it seemed as if the whole town had rallied in the streets. The men were still out there but were far enough away that we would barely be noticed. Almost all of them were looking up, so I did too, just as Nazi fighter planes flew overhead. I remember seeing pictures of this in Martin's museum. It was so much different to actually witness the real thing than to see a picture of it. To be frank, I was terrified.

Despite the omen the planes brought to the town, we carried on down the street, seemingly normal, though if one looked close enough, they would see the bruise that was forming on my arm under Emma's tight grip. We had nearly made it across the street when the men finally noticed us, shouting out at the sight. So, we ran.

We were nearly halfway through the alley - which was bordered on both sides by stables of horses - when Millard called out to us. "You carry on! I'll stay here and trip them up! Meet me in exactly five and a half minutes at the pub!" There were now only three sets of footfalls. Emma stopped us when we reached the end of the alley.

We watched as Millard unraveled a coil of copper wire at ankle height and held tight to the untied end. Well, Jacob and Emma watched, I glanced every once in a while. When the men reached the wire, Millard pulled on it, sending the mob flying into a puddle of mud and stones, nothing but a pile of limbs and heads. Emma let out a cry of joy, Millard laughed as he ran to join us, and as we turned and ran again, I couldn't help but smile. This guy, creepy as he was, was a fucking genius.

My thoughts finally caught up with me when we pushed through the front door of the pub. Thank god, the only one in there was the bartender. I shared a worried look with Jake then turned my face away. "Barman, when's the tap open 'round here?" Emma started. "I'm about as thirsty as a bloody mermaid!" The bartender only laughed.

"Ya' sure about that lil' missy? I ain't servin' no little girls."

"Never mind my age," she shouted, making a show of slamming her hand palm down on the bar. She looked to be about seventeen or eighteen maybe, but who knew? "Get me a quadruple dram of your finest cask-strength whiskey. And I don't want any of that watered-down piss you always serve!"

I wasn't quite sure what to think of her at this point, but I suppose if she was actually going to drink that, my respect would be earned. The bartender raised an eyebrow at her and leaned forward against the bar. "So yer after the hard stuff, eh?" His grin was almost evil as he spoke. "Don't let yer parents hear, or I'll 'ave the 'thorities after me." Then he turned and grabbed a bottle that looked like it contained something as evil as that gleam in his eye and poured it into a tumbler for her. "What about yer friends? Drunk as deacons already, eh?" Jake and I remained silent.

Emma glanced at us and frowned a little, most likely because we were us, and not because we hadn't ordered anything. "Shy, ain't they? Where'd they come from?"

"They claim they're from the future," she replied nonchalantly. "I say they're mad as two hatters." The bartender only looked at Emma quizzically before slamming down the whiskey bottle he was holding.

"They're from what?" he asked, and by the way he slammed the whiskey bottle down on the counter, it was safe to say that he recognized us. I was ready to make a run for it, and I could tell Jacob was, too, but before the bartender could do anything, Emma flipped the drink upside down and spilled it everywhere. Then, a miracle happened: she raised her hand above the whiskey-soaked bar, palm-down, and suddenly it was engulfed in large flames, creating a wall. The bartender's only weapon was his towel.

Emma grabbed our arms and ran for the fireplace, and asked for a hand. I didn't see it at first, but she was trying to lift a lid that was covering a hole in the ground. The three of us managed to lift it with ease, though it was incredibly small.

The room began to fill with smoke and ash, and already I was beginning to choke. "Get in," Emma demanded, then one by one, we did. So this was the infamous priest hole. It was a four feet shaft that became a tiny crawl space, really. It was pitch black, of course, until Emma created more fire, this time for light and maybe even heat, as it was a little chilly. The small ball of flame merely hovered above her open palms like nothing. "Well, come on! There's a door up ahead, move!" So we did.

The three of us made our way along until we reached a dead end. Of course, Emma took over for there, and with a quick kick, the wall gave way and we emerged into broad daylight. We crawled out one at a time to see Millard there, waiting for us.

"There you three are!" I looked around, avoiding the still-naked boy, to see that we were in yet another alley. "You just can't resist a spectacle, can you, Emma?"

The proud girl smiled a little. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Millard." With that, Millard lead us to a horse-drawn carriage, where we stowed away in the back. Before long, the driver arrived and set off with his new cargo. Everything was silent inside the carriage.

It only took a few moments before I noticed we were leaving town, judging by the fading commotion. Finally, Jacob spoke up. "So, how did you know about this wagon? And the planes? Are you, like, psychic or something?"

Emma scoffed. "Hardly," she replied, though I was quite sure Jacob was asking Millard.

"Well, it all happened yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and so on," Millard replied, saying it as if it should be obvious. "Isn't that how it works in your loop?"

"Excuse me?" I ask. "Our what?"

"They're clearly not from a loop, Millard," Emma said, scowling. "I keep on telling you, they're goddamned wights."

"Not necessarily," Millard replied, trying to sound wiser than he probably was. "A wight would never take you alive. Besides," he paused, then motioned to me, "she can see me.""And ghosts," I pointed out quietly, not really willing to expand on my words in fear that they would use that against me./p

"And ghosts," I pointed out quietly, not really willing to expand on my words in fear that they would use that against spoke up again. "See, we're not whatever-you-said. We're just... Jacob and Kallie." Emma narrowed her eyes./p

Jacob spoke up again. "See, we're not whatever-you-said. We're just... Jacob and Kallie." Emma narrowed her eyes

"We'll see about that soon. Now stay quiet."


	8. Chapter Seven

We left the wagon as soon as we were out of town then made our way to the forest. Emma stood between Jacob and me, a firm grip on each of our forearms, while Millard strode along behind us, whistling a tune as he looked around at our surroundings. I wasn't sure which of my feelings was most dominant. All at once, I was confused and frightened and incredibly excited. We had made it, for sure! This is where Jake and I were supposed to be! There was no way I was dreaming now. I'd have to be insane, and clearly, I wasn't.

This time, we walked along on the path, which was no longer overgrown with trees and other shrubbery. Something else was different as well. When we rounded the corner that would lead us directly to the house, my eyes were treated with a lovely view of beautiful flowers and gorgeous gardens. The house, too, was a marvel. In our time, it was smashed and overrun by nature, a monster in itself. Here, now, it was beautiful. Nothing was broken or out of place. Plus, we could actually see the path leading up to the house, rather than having to wade through waist-high weeds.

As we approached the front door, I began to notice that the pain in my knee was back, along with aching in my feet from walking for so long. Emma stopped us on the porch, only to silently tie our hands behind our backs. Now I really did look like a prisoner and felt like one too. We were about to go inside when Millard grabbed Emma's shoulder.

"Wait, their shoes are caked with mud. The Bird is going to have a heart attack if they track that in." Emma turned to Jacob and me expectantly, then watched and waited as he and I removed our shoes. It was certainly harder to do than usual, seeing as our hands were bound, and I nearly fell twice. Once our shoes were off, Emma took us by the arms again and ushered us quickly inside.

The hall we made our way through was nothing like the wreck it was where Jacob and I were earlier. We passed the balcony where Jake had pushed the trunk over the edge, and this time there were faces looking back at us. As we passed through the dinning room, I couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful it was now, rather than the absolute mess I had seen the first time. It was as if I was in some sort of life-sized time capsule. Then I realized, I sort of was.

At last, we stopped just outside a small room towards the back of the house. "Do not let go of them," Emma turned and ordered Millard. "I'll go and fetch the headmistress." He grabbed our arms where she had let go, but as soon as Emma was out of sight, Millard released us again.

"So, what, you're not afraid we're going to eat you?" I asked, turning to Millard as I leaned against the wall. Jacob gave me a wary look - probably willing me to shut up - but I didn't really care. I was still quite upset about the fact that Millard hadn't had the decency to go put some clothes on now that he was home.

"No, not necessarily," came his nonchalant response.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned. Millard remained silent.

Sighing, I followed Jacob's gaze and looked out the window. Outside, more children were playing. Some of them I even recognized from the pictures still scattered on the floor of the other house. Some were relaxing under trees while others looked to be playing a game of catch with a ball. Unfortunately, one of the children kicked the ball too hard and sent the ball flying up into a nearby topiary. There were many of them, looming over everyone like giants, in the shapes of various mythical creatures I'd been fascinated with as a child.

Two teenaged boys and a little girl chased after their lost ball, buried in the centaur-shaped topiary. I couldn't help but notice how the girl seemed to work hard to take every step, and I wondered for a few second what her talent was before the boys tied a rope around her waist. The little girl removed her shoes and began to drift into the air. I felt my jaw drop as she rose higher and higher until she was about ten feet off the ground.

The boys kept on letting off rope until the girl was level with the chest of the centaur, then reached in for the ball. Much to everyone's disappointment, she came back with nothing - the ball was too deep. The boys brought her back down and she slipped back into her shoes and untied the rope.

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" Millard spoke up, and I turned my head to look at his smirking face. "Of course, there are easier ways to get that ball, but they know they have an audience." I smiled a little then looked back outside to see another girl approaching the centaur.

She looked to be about my age, maybe a bit younger, and her hair was an absolute nest. I wouldn't have been surprised if a squirrel suddenly jumped out and scurried away, but alas, that didn't happen. The girl bent down and took the centaur topiary's tail of leaves, wrapping it around her arm. What was she doing? She grew concentrated and shut her eyes tightly, and then, as if by magic, the centaur's hand began to move.

I began to walk closer to the window, and when I got as close as I could I rested my forehead against the glass, straining my eyes in hope of a better look. The centaur's green, leafy fingers wiggled a little, then its arm bent at the elbow to reach into its body and remove the ball. Then, it tossed the ball down to the children and returned to its original position. The girl with the wild hair, now wearing a look of pride, released its tail.

"No offense," Jacob started, and I turned away from the window to face him. "But what are you?"

Millard looked baffled at Jake's question. "Why, we're peculiar. Aren't you?" Jacob shrugged.

"Well, I think she is," he said, jerking his head in my direction. "I don't think I am, though."

"Hm, shame," Millard replied, a small frown on his face. He opened his mouth to say more, but Emma burst through the door.

"Why have you let them go?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. She shook her head and let her hands fall to her sides before taking hold of Jacob and me again. "Never mind that. The headmistress will see you now."

We went through the door and walked through more rooms than I thought was possible. I tried my hardest to ignore the curious eyes watching as the four of us carried on, but it was hard to do that with such unwanted attention. At last, we reached a pretty sitting room with many windows letting in plenty of sunlight. There, in a high-backed chair, sat a sophisticated woman, knitting. She was dressed in all black and had her hair tied in a neat knot. I marveled at her hands - clothed in black lace gloves and working quickly yet expertly with the knitting needles. I knew almost instantly this was the Miss Peregrine we had come so far to see.

Emma pulled us along to stand in front of the woman and cleared her throat. Miss Peregrine looked up, knitting paused. "Good afternoon," she said simply, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "I suppose you, sir, are Jacob. I don't recognize you, though, miss." I smiled, nervous under her wise, watchful gaze.

"I'm Kallie Sanders, ma'am," I say, careful not to stutter. She smiled fully before Emma decided to speak.

"Wait, how do you know his-"

"My name is Headmistress Peregrine, though I am sure you have gathered as much already," she said, silencing Emma, "though seeing as neither of you are currently under my care, you may call me Miss Peregrine. I am pleased to finally meet you, Jacob." She then extended a hand in his direction for him to shake, then frowned when she noticed our bound hands. "What is the meaning of this, Miss Bloom? Untie our guests at once!"

"B-but Headmistress," Emma protested, "they're liars and sneaks and... I can't even imagine what else!"

With a glare of pure malice at Jacob and I, she whispered something into Miss Peregrine's ear. Then, starting at both myself and Jacob, the older woman laughed. "What a tale, Miss Bloom! If these two were wights you would be long gone by now. Just look at him - how can you tell me that is not Abraham Portman's grandson?" I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. We were safe, finally.

Emma frowned and began to argue again, but Miss Peregrine gave her a 'look' that could send a dog running to its kennel. "All right, all right," Emma said with an annoyed sigh before turning to untie Jacob and me. As she finished undoing the knots around my now aching wrists, I heard her mutter something about how Miss Peregrine would be sorry.

"Please excuse Miss Bloom," Miss Peregrine began, "she can be quite melodramatic at times."

"You're telling us," Jacob remarked, rubbing his wrists.

"Well, I-" Emma began, then rethought her words. "If they're who they claim to be, why doesn't either of them know anything of loops? Or even the current year? Just ask them!"

Miss Peregrine frowned. "Why don't either of them know," she corrected. "Miss Bloom, the only one I'll be questioning is you, tomorrow afternoon, regarding the proper use of grammatical tenses." Emma grumbled. I tried my hardest not to chuckle. "If you don't mind, Miss Bloom, I must have a word with our guests in private."

Emma knew it was hopeless. She let out a sigh and walked to the door. I saw Millard standing there, silent as ever, and frowned. I had forgotten he was even with us, and for god's sake, couldn't he have put on some pants? Emma looked over her shoulder before closing the door behind her, giving Jacob and I a look of... was that concern? How very odd.

"You too, Mr. Nullings!" Miss Peregrine called, causing the supposedly invisible boy to blush. "Polite persons do not eavesdrop on other's conversations."

"I was only going to ask if you would like some tea," he replied. What a suck-up! Regardless, I opened my mouth to inquire for some chamomile, but Miss Peregrine spoke before I could.

"No, thank you, we would not." With that, Millard turned and left the room. Good riddance.

Jacob and I turned to face Miss Peregrine once again, just as she spoke to us. "I would invite you two to sit down, but you seem to be coated with filth." Understandable. She ran a tight - and incredibly clean - ship around here, it was plain to see. Rather than going against her wishes, Jake and I knelt on the floor, and I couldn't help but feel like a loyal and fearful subject bowing to a queen.

"You've been on the island for quite some time - a few days now. Why have you taken so long to arrive here?" Miss Peregrine asked as she finally set aside her knitting in a basket by her chair.

"W-we didn't know you were here," Jacob replied. "How did you know we were?"

"I've been watching you two, of course. I know you've seen me as well, though you might not have realized as much at the time," she said as she withdrew a long blue-grey feather from her hair. "I was in my alternate form. It is undeniably better to observe humans in the form of a bird. Might I say, Miss Sanders, you have quite the foul mouth. I can't say I'm impressed." A blush rose to my cheeks.

"That was you this morning outside the Priest Hole?" I asked sheepishly. "The peregrine falcon?"

Miss Peregrine nodded, still frowning a bit. "Naturally. That's quite the eye you've got, Mr. Portman."

"Then you really are the Bird!" Jacob replied, excitement filling his voice.

"Well," came Miss Peregrine's response. "While I may tolerate that appellation, I do not encourage it. Now, what were you two searching for in that disheartening devastation of a house?"

"Well, you," I replied. Miss Peregrine's eyes widened a bit at that, almost as if she were offended. "We didn't know how or where to find you. Only yesterday we learned that you were all..." I drifted off, not wanting to say the word. If they were really dead, Jacob wouldn't have seen them. Well, unless they wanted him to.

"Dead," Jacob finished, and a small knot formed in my throat.

Miss Peregrine smiled, though it seemed grim and forced. "Didn't your grandfather tell you anything about us?" Jacob shrugged.

"I guess, yeah. I just thought they were all... I don't know, fairy tales. No offense."

"Oh," came her response. I couldn't help but notice the sadness evident in her voice. "I'm a little surprised, but I suppose that's how we would rather be thought of here. Nowadays, so few people truly believe in these things - magical beings and such - so commoners don't bother looking for us. It makes things easier for us, I suppose. Rumors of ghosts haunting the house have helped a fair bit as well, though I can see it didn't in your case." She paused, then smiled a little. "You're quite courageous, aren't you? It must run in your family, Jacob."

"I-I guess, yeah," Jacob replied with a laugh, and I could almost feel his nervousness coming off in waves.

Miss Peregrine continued speaking. "Regardless, you felt as if he was making everything up? When did you really start to believe him?" Jacob thought for a few quiet seconds before responding.

"I guess I kind of am now." Miss Peregrine's face seemed to fall.

"Oh, dear, I see." She turned to me. "How about you, Miss Sanders? Why are you here?" I took a breath before explaining.

"I had questions, and Jacob had answers, really. We met through mutual friends, and when I told him I can see ghosts, and talked to his grandpa, he kind of just... told me everything. It seems to be going pretty well for us, though." Miss Peregrine was still frowning, but her expression was more melancholy than ever. I suppose the news I had just dropped was the reason why.

"So, he's... gone?" Jake nodded sadly. I remained silent. Everything was quiet.

Jacob spoke up again and reached into his pocket. "I think he really wanted to tell me everything, but couldn't. He, uh, gave me this. It what brought us here."

Miss Peregrine took the letter and skimmed over it before laughing in pity. "How silly of me, the way I practically begged for a reply. Oh, but we were desperate for new information from him. I once wrote to him asking if he'd like us to die from fear, living so openly."

When she finally handed the letter back to Jacob, her mood seemed to darken even more. "How did he go?" she asked, and sure enough, Jacob told her.

I was startled a little at first. The story he was telling - of wild dogs rather than monsters - was different from the one he had told me. Well, perhaps he didn't want to seem insane. Or maybe he didn't fully believe the newer version instead, so he settled for the police's version. He ended with a comment about Abe's stubbornness, and that was that.

"I was always worried this would happen," Miss Peregrine said after a few minutes of quiet. "I told him it wasn't wise to leave, but did he listen to me? Of course not. And now this - leaving his grandson and his friend to explain the dreadful news."

Jacob rushed to comfort her, but there was nothing I could say. I didn't know Abe like they did. To say anything would be stupid. So instead, I looked out the window at the slowly yet surely sinking sun. My window view was partially blocked when Miss Peregrine rose and walked over to it, a limp in one leg. She looked at her wards as they played.

"The children can't learn of this, not yet. They would only become distressed," she said sternly. Jacob and I nodded in response. She turned towards us again and seemed to become a new person - the one we had seen when we entered the room. "I'm sure you both have a plethora of questions, now."

"Only a hundred," I replied. Jacob let out a quick breath, almost like a laugh.

"Yeah, try a thousand," he added.

Miss Peregrine nodded and withdrew a watch from her pocket. "We have some time between now and dinner. Does that seem sufficient?" Jacob and I looked at each other and shrugged. Most of our questions would be the same, anyway. Miss Peregrine opened her mouth, then paused and tilted her head a bit before striding across the room and pulling open the door. There sat Emma, her face blotched red and dripping with tears. The little wretch heard everything.

"Eavesdropping, are we, Miss Bloom?" Miss Peregrine asked. "Polite persons do not listen in on the conversations of-" Emma ran away, sobbing, before Miss Peregrine could finish speaking. "How unfortunate," Miss Peregrine continued. "The subject of your grandfather is a... touchy one, concerning Miss Bloom."


	9. Chapter Eight

"I still can't believe it," Jacob began as we left the classroom. Miss Peregrine had left a few moments ago to attend to dinner and leave Jake and me some time to think. "Emma and... and my grandpa?"

"We just learned everything about these people, and you're still hung up on that? Goddamn it, Jake, I'm peculiar, a fucking syndrigast or peculiar spirit or whatever."

Jacob shrugged, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. "Okay, that is kind of cool..."

"'Kind of'," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Crpyto-sapiens - I'm right up there with Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster! You could be, too!"

"You do know 'sapiens' refers to 'humans', right? Bigfoot could maybe be considered one, but do you seriously believe in that shit?" Jacob asked, giving me a look that was nothing short of judgmental.

Stopped and frowned at him. "Well, not particularly. But after what we learned in there, I'm not exactly sure what I should believe in anymore. And since you want to get scientific with this; if there are humans with special abilities, why can't there be other animals with them, too?" I point out. Jacob sighs and continues walking.

"I suppose you've got a point. And we did learn a lot in there. Hell, you were in tears at first." I frowned again immediately at his words and quickened my pace, pushing past him as I recounted what Miss Peregrine said about how some peculiar children were treated by their parents - the same way my mother treated me. Noticing my sudden mood change, Jacob stopped me. "Listen, I'm sorry. I didn't know that about your mom. It sucks that she was like that, you know? I think it's super cool that you can see ghosts - and now apparently invisible people - and clearly, a bunch of other people do, too."

I smiled a little, though I could tell it didn't reach my eyes. We continued walking in silence until we got to a stairway and I sat down. Jacob sat next to me. "I want to see more of the pictures in Miss Peregrine's photo album," I said, almost out of nowhere. Jacob was about to respond when a voice came from the top of the stairs.

"That can be arranged, you know." Jacob and I turn our heads to see Millard, finally wearing some clothes, though they were only pants. Well, I could see Millard. I supposed Jake would only see floating pants. Regardless, it was an improvement over nakedness, to say the least. "I suppose you're staying for dinner?" Millard asked, making his way down a few steps. Simultaneously, Jake and I stand

"Yeah," I said, smiling a bit at the thought of meeting the others and learning about their abilities. Before Millard could say anything else, Emma appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Come on, you two. You'd better wash off that mud before we eat." I nodded and started up the stairs, followed by Jake, then Millard. Emma remained quiet, as did the half-naked boy, so Jake and I did the same until we reached the first bathroom. "I'll take care of you," Emma said, grabbing my arm in a way that made me think 'take care of' meant 'get rid of' rather than 'help'.

Jacob cleared his throat. "Er, I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of invisible guys yet. No offense," he quickly added, turning towards Millard but not exactly facing him.

"Jake, for all you know, he could be some kind of perv!" I exclaim.

"At least you can see him," he countered, and Millard cleared his throat.

"He makes a fair point. If I were in his position I would feel the same way. I can promise you, I will remain my composure," Millard said, sounding a bit more sarcastic as he finished speaking.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Very well, then," she started. "Come on." With that, Jacob and Emma disappeared into the bathroom.

"Oh, joy! I'm being led to a bathroom, alone, by a shirtless guy. It's a dream come true," I let the sarcastic remark slip through my lips, only causing Millard to chuckle as we began walking down the hall towards the second bathroom.

"I can't say I'm too happy about this, either. I'm supposed to be invisible. You've rained on my parade," Millard replied with a slight laugh. I looked at him briefly and raised an eyebrow.

"The only thing that would make that comment even remotely funny would be if I had weather manipulation as a peculiarity."

Millard returned the eyebrow raise with a small smirk. "Ah, but then my metaphorical parade wouldn't have been rained on in the first place, seeing as that would be your peculiarity instead of seeing me."

"Touche," I replied, ending the conversation. I followed him down the hall and into the second washroom, then decided to sit on the counter and wait as Millard began filling the bathtub with water.

"I hope you don't mind it being cold. Usually, Emma would warm it. See what you missed?" Millard asked, looking over his shoulder at me then turning off the tap.

"Hey, I wasn't the one who was picky about who prepared me a bath, so you're going to have to take that up with Jacob. But cold's fine. I won't take as long." Millard only nodded in reply and left quickly.

Before long I had cleaned myself off to the best of my ability and changed into a less-than-comfortable cotton dress which was too tight around my bust. There was a ribbon to tighten it around my waist, but seeing as I couldn't tie a bow behind my back for the life of me, I knotted it and headed out into the hall. I was glad to see I wasn't the only one who looked ridiculous, for just down the hall was Jacob, pants hiked up to his midriff by suspenders that were clearly too small for him. As I approached, I longed to be in his position. Anything would be better than that itchy, ice blue dress.

"I don't want to talk about it," Jacob said through gritted teeth before we made our way downstairs and towards the dining room, myself in a fit of giggles the entire time despite the discomfort. We looked like a pair of clowns - uncomfortable and dressed in clearly ill-fitting clothes.

As we neared the dining room, Jake and I could hear loud chatter bouncing around, but it ceased as soon as we stepped through the doorway. All eyes were on us. It wasn't hard to recognize some of the faces I saw as ones I'd seen in the wrecked house outside the loop. I could tell just by the looks on them that we were their first visitors in a long time. Miss Peregrine, bless her heart, rose from where she was already sitting at the head of the table and began speaking.

"For those who haven't already been introduced, I would like to present to you Abraham's grandson, Jacob, and his friend Kallie. They will be our honored guests, as they've traveled quite far to be here today. I hope you all treat them with the respect they deserve." After she finished addressing her wards, Miss Peregrine began introducing each of them to us. Though I tried my hardest, I could only remember a few new names.

Questions were asked and Miss Peregrine answered, though they were only simple ones. I was quite gracious, in fact, and I supposed Jacob was as well. We were, after all, feeling quite overwhelmed. They were mostly about Abe and his endeavors, though it must have gotten to be too much for Emma, as she stormed off. To my surprise, nobody seemed too affected; perhaps she was like that a lot. Soon after Emma's outburst, Miss Peregrine put off any more questions with the proposal of dinner. The children cheered and everyone quickly sat down.

I looked around for an empty seat and chose one between two of the smallest girls. Jacob made his way towards Millard, and I began snickering when I realized Millard must have taken his pants off and was now fully invisible to everyone else. My suspicion was correct, as Jacob sat down right on Millard's lap, only to leap up again with a shout as Millard cried 'excuse me!'

"Mr. Nullings, how many times have I told you that polite persons do not dine in the nude!" Miss Peregrine scolded him. I looked away as Millard left to get dressed, muttering about the waste of his peculiarity. All attention was pulled away from the commotion as more children came in through the kitchen holding various silver-lidded platters, hiding our meal from view.

Some of the children began shouting out various vile meals, and if I weren't so hungry I probably would have lost my appetite at the proposition of 'salted kitten and shrew's liver'. I hoped they were only joking. It seems they were, for when the lids were lifted, my eyes were treated to the sight of a large, roasted goose that was the perfect shade of crisp brown, a whole salmon along with a large cod - each decorated accordingly with lemon wedges and herbs - and various smaller dishes like vegetables and muscles and freshly baked bread. I dug in as soon as the others did, already fitting in with them.

As I gorged myself on food, I couldn't help but look around the room at the other children. One of the girls I sat next to, the levitating girl - I believe her name was Olive - was strapped into a chair which was, in turn, screwed tightly to the floor so she wouldn't float away. The boy with bees, Hugh, ate with a mosquito net surrounding his own corner of the table. It was quite amusing, really. Jacob then spoke, asking the girl on my left why she wasn't eating. I looked at her plate to see its contents untouched.

"Claire doesn't like to eat with us," Hugh said as a bee buzzed around his nose. "She gets embarrassed."

"I do not," she cried, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at Hugh. I couldn't help but notice that Millard strolled back in, unnoticed by anyone else, in only a smoking jacket. I was just long enough that I wasn't immediately tempted to yell at him for not having the decency to put on pants, but I was still not impressed.

"Not one of us is embarrassed by our gift," Miss Peregrine said, butting into the growing argument. "Miss Densmore prefers to dine alone, is all." Claire smiled weakly, but I could tell she was uncomfortable with all the attention.

Millard finally spoke up. "Claire has a backmouth," he pointed out, dishing vegetables onto his plate as everyone turned to look at him.

"Excuse me?" asked Jacob, and before long, everyone was urging Claire to show off her peculiarity. When they got too loud, I decided enough was enough.

"Be quiet!" I shouted over everyone, then turned to Claire. "It's alright, there's no need to be embarrassed. I can see Millard, and he's hardly wearing anything! If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be me or him." I looked over at Millard with a smirk to see him frowning at me before looking back at Claire.

She was wide-eyed, probably wondering how I could see an invisible boy, then without another moment's hesitation, she turned in her seat and bent down backward, her hair getting messy in the food on her plate. There was a noise that was all too familiar to me, and when she sat back up, there was a considerable portion of the goose leg missing. Of course: backmouth. A mouth at the back of her head.

Finally finished her 'show', Claire remained silent and crossed her arms again. Dinner resumed as normal. The next question asked was directed at me, by Olive. "What do you mean, you can see Millard? He's invisible!" I look first at Millard, then Miss Peregrine, then back at Olive.

"Well, I can see invisible things in general, I guess. I see ghosts, too. That was my first hint that you all weren't dead. There were no ghosts in or around the house on my side of the loop.""So you have two peculiarities?" asked a dapper looking boy sitting near Miss Peregrine. I was about to respond, but I didn't know what to say to that. Miss Peregrine, it seemed, did./p

"So you have two peculiarities?" asked a dapper looking boy sitting near Miss Peregrine. I was about to respond, but I didn't know what to say to that. Miss Peregrine, it seemed, did.

"Not two, Horace, but a stronger variation of one. Seeing ghosts is not uncommon, however, seeing the invisible is a more advanced version of it." I recalled these to be the same words she'd spoken earlier in the classroom when she was giving Jacob and me our lecture on peculiar folk. I also remembered her explaining that since I'd spent so long seeing the invisible dead, my eyes had been trained to pick out the invisible living as well.

Millard finally spoke again. "Fascinating," he murmured, and when I looked at him, his eyes were trained on me. I couldn't help but feel a little heat rise to my cheeks before shoving more vegetables into my mouth.

Questions began flying again, about what things were like in the future, and Jacob took the liberty of answering them all for me as I was not usually the best at explaining things. After a few moments, the children were disappointed with how slowly the people of the future were progressing. Miss Peregrine took the chance to point out how it was better that they were living in the 'good old here and now'. That had me thinking... how long had they been in this 'here and now'?

"How old are you?" I blurted out the question, and with one glance at Jacob, I could tell he was about to ask the same thing.

"Well, I'm eighty-three," said Hugh, waving a goose-loaded fork in the air a bit before putting it in his mouth. Olive next to me grew excited.

"I'll be seventy-five and a half next week!" They were clearly well organized it they could keep track of their age down to the week.

Enoch, a cockney-accented boy, spoke next. "I'm either one hundred seventeen or one hundred eighteen." I was surprised, and I'm sure my face showed as much. He couldn't have been - visually - older than thirteen, yet he was so much older than Olive, who appeared to be only a few years younger than him. "I used to live in another loop," he elaborated. Well, that made more sense.

"I'm nearly eighty-seven," Millard said, and I nearly choked on a green bean. He looked at me quizzically, before I cleared my throat.

"Sorry," I began. "You look good for eighty-six." He and the others chuckled and giggled as a blush rose on my cheeks again.

"Thank you," came his response, but I busied myself with eating more veggies.

Jacob coughed before admitting his age. "I'm eighteen," he said.

"Seventeen," I added around more beans, gesturing to myself so they knew I wasn't correcting Jake or anything. The kids looked at us, visibly shocked. Olive even laughed. It only struck me then that they would think it strange for Jake and me to be so young, but on the other hand, it was odd enough to me that they looked so young. These kids acted like just that - kids. But for them to all be around eighty? I supposed this was an effect of the loop; not only did their bodies cease to age, but their souls, as well. This place, this loop, was like a real-life Neverland.

The short silence was broken by a boom from outside, and I couldn't even guess what it was. "Hurry up, everyone, let's finish!" Miss Peregrine exclaimed as another boom sounded, the house shaking a bit with it.

"What the hell is that?" I ask, beginning to get a bit worried. When a third boom broke the air, my shoulders and jaw tensed and I could feel the edge of the silver fork in pressing into my left hand while my nails did the same to my right hand.

"It's those damned Jerries!" Olive said with a frown, hitting her fist on the table as if she were some angry old lady. Everything clicked into place when a buzzer when off somewhere far away. September third, 1940. The night the bomb came and destroyed the house.

"We have to get out before the bomb hits!" Jacob cried, bolting upright from the table. Olive only giggled from beside me again, relaxing my racing heart with her words.

"He thinks we're going to die!"

Millard shrugged from the other side of the table. "It's merely the changeover, no need to get your knickers in a twist." I roll my eyes.

"Says the guy who's not wearing any," I point out, sending some of the other children into small fits of laughter. "Does this really happen every night?"

"Every single evening," Miss Peregrine replied, nodding. Though her words set me at ease enough to eat another mouthful of veggies, I could see that Jacob was still panicking.

"Oh! May we show Jacob and Kallie?" Hugh asked, excitement growing in his voice.

Claire finally brightened up, and judging by the look of her plate, in all the commotion she took another bite of her goose leg. "Please, please, please? It's so beautiful to watch!"

"We haven't even finished our dinner!" Miss Peregrine pointed out, but, of course, the children persisted. With a sigh, Miss Peregrine agreed. "So long as you wear the masks," she her words, the children bolted from their chairs and left the room in a stampede like soldiers onto a battlefield - which was quite the fitting simile, once the circumstances were taken into consideration. I could see the disappointment on Olive's face when no one untied her, so I took the liberty of doing so myself. She left with a quick 'thank you', then with a glance to Jacob, I followed after her.

We made our way to the front foyer where each grabbed a gas mask from a cabinet before exiting with next to insurmountable speed. Miss Peregrine, who had made her way ahead of Jacob and me, turned and handed a gas mask to each of us. Jacob looked at his own for a bit before putting it on on Miss Peregrine's command, as if he was only just realizing what it was he was holding in his hands. With our masks on securely, Jake and I finally followed behind the other children and Miss Peregrine.

The world around me was nearly unrecognizable. What had once been a crystal clear sky was now filled with smoke and ash. In the distance, a wildfire had started near the part of the forest closest to town. I wouldn't have been surprised if they were all dead over there. The sound of droning airplane came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, messing with my head. Then, only slightly above the noise, I heard the children begin to sing to the rhythm of the bombs. I recognized it as one of the first songs I'd ever learned to play on the piano.

"Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run!

"Bang, bang, bang goes the farmer's gun.

"He'll get by without his rabbit pie, so

"Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run!"

At the last word, the loudest bang of all it seemed as if fireworks burst in the air. It was beautiful but deadly. There was something about the idea of total and complete destruction, and the fact that it could be so romanticized, that was completely beautiful to me in such an abstract way that I was simultaneously amazed and appalled by the complexity of it. It amazed me that a single group of people could feel such a deep, intense hatred for another group that they would be willing to destroy people they didn't even know in order to gain - what they would consider - peace.

Rain began to fall and I felt a presence at my side. I looked over my shoulder to see Millard - finally with pants on, which surprised me because I wouldn't think he of anyone would delay any time to see the show - standing there, looking up. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yeah, in a sadistic sort of way," I replied in a slightly judgmental tone, looking back up before he grabbed my arm and began pulling me back towards the house, only to speed right past the door and into another part of the yard. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he said, then remained silent despite my questions as he continued into the back corner of the yard around the house where the others had gathered around a topiary. Upon closer inspection, the large leafy being was none other than Adam from the infamous Michelangelo painting, sprawled out across the grass nonchalantly. It was done amazingly, almost down to every last detail.

"Goddamn," I whispered. Millard chuckled next to me, and then I saw the girl with dreadlocks from earlier standing near me, and Jacob not too far beyond. I approached her.

"Did you make that?" I asked, and when she nodded in response, I wanted to give her a hug or something. She was like Edward Scissorhands, but better.

"How?" Jacob continued, walking over to us, and we were both shocked as she knelt and held her palm above the grass, only for them to grow only under where her hand was. I was going to comment, but then Millard tugged the sleeve of the dress I forgot I was wearing and looked to the sky, silently suggesting I do the same.

At first, I saw nothing but smoke and fire, but then, after a few moments, one plane engine grew so loud it almost sounded isolated from the rest. Terror clutched my heart when I realized that perhaps every night these kids die, only to be brought back from the dead to relive the same trauma over and over and over again, one day after the next.

Suddenly, something fell from the sky, whistling as it grew nearer and nearer. I tried to remain calm, but as the bomb hurtled towards us, I was frozen in fear and it seemed that I subconsciously thought that clutching to Millard's jacket sleeve would somehow save me from the impending doom. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jacob throw himself to the ground and I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for death, but it never came. There was silence.

I opened my eyes. Everything was frozen in time. Trees and flames and smoke - frozen. I felt like I was in a surrealistic painting, trapped for all eternity in the same colors and patterns and positions. In front of me, the rest of the children, save for Millard, who was still by my side, and Jake, who was still on the ground, were in a circle around Adam. And there, on the tip of the topiary's finger, sat the bomb, seconds away from bursting. Seconds away from oblivion. Then everything was white.

Until it wasn't. I opened my eyes and removed my arms from my face - which in all honesty, I hadn't realized I had done until I stopped - to see the other children laughing at Jacob, who was still on the ground. Millard had a wide grin on his face, then he looked back down at me.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" I looked around. Everyone was fine, the house wasn't in ruins, and the night was peaceful, the moon full. I watched as Jacob took Miss Peregrine's hand and got up, removing his mask. I did the same.

"I suppose it wasn't," I replied. Millard nodded once before leaving to join the others.

"Please accept my apologies, Mr. Portman, Miss Sanders. I suppose I should have better prepared you." Miss Peregrine was smiling as she spoke, inspiring one on my face as well.

I looked at Jake, then my watch. "I think we should get going," I said, frowning once more before looking back up at everyone. "The guys at the inn might worry if we don't come back for the night." Jacob walked over and I showed him the time.

"Yeah," he confirmed, scratching the back of his neck. "She's right. We can go back, though, right?"

"But of course," Miss Peregrine replied with a warm smile. "Do we have any volunteers to bring them back to the cairn?" I was more than a little shocked when Emma volunteered.

"Er, are you sure about this? She wanted to kill us not even half a day ago," Jacob pointed out quietly so only he, I, and Miss Peregrine could hear.

The Headmistress frowned. "While Miss Bloom has quite a hot temper, she is also among my most trusted wards." She then turned to Jacob and continued speaking. "I also believe the two of you may want to discuss a few things away from the others." With that, I cleared my throat.

"Then, what about me?" I asked, only a little offended that she forgot temporarily about the fact that Jacob wasn't alone.

"Of course, I can't very well have you traveling alone, can I?" Before she could open her mouth to ask for another volunteer, Millard stepped forward. I couldn't help but roll my eyes, but I suppose he was better than someone I'd never spoken to before.

"I'll go," he offered, though he needn't have said anything, as his point was across from the moment he stepped forward. Regardless, Miss Peregrine nodded, and with melancholy 'goodbyes' from each of the children, the four of us were off.

Emma and Jacob easily strode ahead of Millard and I as they headed off towards the cairn, but I was shorter than both of them and therefore had much shorter strides. I was glad that Millard was courteous enough to slow his pace so that we were walking side by side.

We walked in silence before I broke it with not necessarily the most polite question. "You do realize you don't have to by my side at every waking moment," I said sort of rudely. Millard only gave a half smile before responding.

"I know, but wouldn't you rather walk with someone your own age? It seems that so far your only other friends are half that." I nearly guffawed at his response.

"My own age? You're eighty-seven!" Millard rolled his eyes, which seemed kind of out of character for him. He struck me as a suck up who wouldn't dare show any type of sass in such a visual form, but then I realized I was the only one who could actually see him, and therefore he could get away with anything non-verbal. Before he could say anything else, I turned to him and asked another question. "Have you ever flipped anyone off?" I asked, perhaps a little too giddily.

"Excuse me?" Millard replied, a little shocked.

I thought for a moment, searching through my mind for terminology he might identify with. "You know, flipped the bird? Given someone the middle finger?" Millard's eyes widened before he looked sternly down at me.

"Well, of course not. On one hand, I've never had a good enough reason to, and on the other, I don't pride myself in acting so immaturely. I've always said that profanity is the language of the uneducated," he replied, and I didn't even care if he noticed that I rolled my eyes.

"Well, excuse me, mister high-and-mighty. I happen to know that my father, James Sanders, is an oncologist, has an IQ of one hundred thirty-eight, and has one of the dirtiest mouths I've ever seen," I said defensively, trying to prove him wrong. Millard only laughed.

"And what, pray tell, is an oncologist?" he asked, and it dawned on me that there are titles for occupations he wouldn't even know about yet.

I mustered up a proud smile and turned to him once more. "An oncologist is a doctor who specializes in treating many forms of cancer. He's saved countless lives, and he's barely fifty!"

Millard was silent for a moment, then finally had to words to say. "Well, it seems as though you've proved me wrong." That was all either of us said until we were on my side of the loop.

"So, how am I going to get through this bog?" I asked. Millard smiled a little.

"Follow me, and step where I step." I did as he said until we were finally out of the swamp, though it took almost five minutes and I nearly lost my boot again.

At last, we made it to the edge of the forest, and though the generators were already off in town, I could see the oil street lamps and Jacob's vague figure walking down towards the main road. Apparently, we'd walked right past Emma without even noticing it.

"Are you coming back tomorrow?" Millard asked suddenly, and I turned to look over my shoulder.

"Why wouldn't I?" I countered with a smirk. Millard shrugged and flashed me a small smile before turning around and fading back into the foggy woods. As I headed back into town, I smiled to myself. Jacob and I had made it, and our journey was only just beginning. I looked up at the now cloudy sky, already anticipating the clear sky of the loop. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."


	10. Chapter Nine

The next morning, Jacob and I sat in comfortable, happy silence as we ate our breakfast. After everything that had happened the previous day, why wouldn't we be happy? We had discovered the very people we came to see in the first place were still alive and thriving. Not even when we stepped out into the pouring rain did our mood sour, as we knew we'd soon be greeted by the bright, sunny sky of the loop.

As we walked through the forest, our hoods up and our hands shoved in our pockets, Jacob began speaking. "So, I got a call last night," he said, seeming uncertain with his words, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to tell me this.

"From who?" I asked, looking up at him as I prompted him to elaborate on his vague remark. As I did so, I nearly tripped over a stray root jutting out from the ground, so I focused back on the ground to avoid any further incidences.

"Dr. Golan. He told me that he's worried about me." Jacob scoffed after answering, a small, disbelieving smile on his face.

"Okay, so, what did you say?" I press, hoping to god that he didn't actually say anything about the kids being alive – not that I thought he was dumb enough to do that.

Jake thought for a second – planning out his explanation, no doubt – before replying. "What he wanted to hear." I laughed at that – we both did – before he continued. "No, I just explained what we've been doing. Then I lied about being over the whole 'grandpa' thing. I mean, sure I still get nightmares sometimes, but what do you expect with PTSD? I'm totally over it."

"Really? 'Cause it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of that more than anyone else," I pointed out.

"Whatever, Kallie. Anyway, it was a kind of choppy conversation, anyway. He was picking up his sister at an airport, so he kept on getting talked over by the crowd. He wishes you well, also." I nodded, being respectful of the fact that he didn't want to talk about his grandpa more than he had to. Then, something dawned on me.

"Wait, you had, like, two meetings with him before we left. Did you tell him about my ghost thing?"

Jacob shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "No, I just told him you were my cousin."

"Oh, like what we told Kev?" I countered, laughing a little. Jake laughed a bit, too.

"Yeah, I guess."

By that time, we'd reached the cairn after nearly getting lost twice along the way, and I was more than relieved to pull my hood off my head and welcome the bright, sunny, September morning. The relief faded slightly when I noticed an annoyed-looking Emma there, already waiting for us. "Well, it two you two long enough. Everyone's been waiting for ages!"

"Really?" Jacob asked, stepping closer to the feisty blonde. I, however, stayed back, still a little nervous about being around her, seeing as just yesterday she had both captured and threatened to kill me.

"Well, of course," Emma replied before taking Jake's hand and heading off, leaving me to follow behind them. What had happened between them last night? I pushed the unvoiced question from my head and instead began fantasizing about what today would hold with the children. I had just about lost sight of them when we burst through the trees, emerging into the large yard of the house. As we entered the backyard, we were greeted with a pleasant surprise.

The children were all busy, setting up for what appeared to be a concert. Already there was a small wooden stage set up and various kids were getting dressed up in exaggerated costumes that one would expect from a bunch of dancers and businessmen rather than children. Then again, they weren't really children, were they?

Those who weren't getting in costume or setting something else up were playing music, more than likely to accompany whatever show was coming up. It was a three part group, consisting of a positively ancient looking contraption resembling a cello that Horace seemed more than comfortable with, an equally old looking trombone, and an accordion.

I walked forward until I was standing on Emma's other side. "So, what is this, some kind of play?" I ask, growing more excited at the prospect. Emma turned to me with a small smirk.

"Oh, you'll see." With that, she walked away, Jacob on her heels - no doubt to ask more questions. I couldn't help but feel like if he had asked, we might have received a more helpful answer. I set off on my own, watching the children - in a totally non-creepy way - as the flitted about in their costumes. I could tell by the increase in their energy that the show was soon going to start, and my suspicions were confirmed when a whistle blew.

I made my way over to the folding chairs set up in a row in front of the stage taking a seat next to Olive, who sat on the very end. I looked up just in time to see Millard walking onto the stage, a goofy grin on his face. I couldn't help but smile at his outfit - somewhere out there, a barbershop quartet was missing its fourth member. His eyes rested on me, and for a second, I could have sworn his smile brightened - just a tad - before he began speaking.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am most honored to present you with an astounding performance unlike any other!" he began, nearly shouting, as if he were addressing a crowd ten times the size of this one. It made me wonder: how many times had they performed in front of a real crowd? "A show so daring and magical, it's hard to believe the performers are hardly adults! Guests, friends, I present to you, Miss Peregrine and her Peculiar Children!"

With that, everyone in the crowd began applauding loudly, myself included. Millard took a bow, tipped his hat, then began speaking again. "Now, I will present our first illusion, the mastermind behind the production, Miss Peregrine!" Immediately after he finished speaking, he ducked under the curtain and returned only about half a minute later, a folded sheet on one arm and a bird - a peregrine falcon, to be exact - on the other. Before doing anything with either, Millard nodded to the orchestra, who began playing a hearty carnival tune.

The next thing he did was set the falcon down on the stage next to him and unfold the sheet, holding it in front of the blue-gray raptor. "Three, two, one!" came the countdown, and suddenly the beating of wings sounded and Miss Peregrine's head appeared above the sheet, one hundred percent human, I supposed. Millard averted his eyes until the headmistress took the sheet from him, wrapping it around her body. It seemed that when one shape-shifts, their clothes don't go with them. Well, that would make for some odd looks, anyway. A smile came to me when I imagined Miss Peregrine in her bird form, flying around in a black dress.

"Mr. Portman, Miss Sanders, I'm glad that you two have returned. We used to perform this little show around the continent back in our golden days. I supposed it would make explaining each our talents... entertaining, to say the least." Before either Jacob or I could respond, Miss Peregrine gracefully fled the stage back to the house to clothe herself. Then, the rest of the show commenced.

It began, of course, with Millard, as he was already on stage. Of course, that was the one display I didn't watch for obvious reasons. I assumed it would be 'PG' as he began removing his suit jacket and shirt, but I knew to look away as soon as he began undoing the button on his pants. I mean, sure I'd seen the male human body in health class in school, and it was just that - a body, like mine, but different. A literal meat-suit for our souls, or whatever. However, I had only met this guy yesterday, and we clearly weren't close enough for anything past an awkward hug.

Olive went after Millard, removing her special leaden shoes so that she could perform an anti-gravity gymnastics routine. Directly after Olive was Emma, who created, swallowed, and spat back up her own fire.

I was most definitely impressed, at this point, by the both of them, and then a large girl - perhaps fifteen or sixteen? - came up on stage dragging a mini-fridge-sized boulder behind her. I recognized her from dinner yesterday, but she seldom spoke, so I never remembered her name. Olive, sitting next to me once more after trodding off the stage, clapped quickly. "Yay, Bronwyn!" she cheered, letting off the impression that the two were quite close. So, her name was Bronwyn. Well, that was one of my questions answered.

Bronwyn stood, clearly uncomfortable, at center-stage before she lifted the boulder above her head with ease. She yawned, and I wasn't sure if she was just bluffing or of she was genuinely bored. By the expression on her face and the way she walked off the stage with the boulder tucked under one arm like a pillow, it was safe to say that the latter was the most accurate of the two. Nonetheless, I applauded just as loud as the rest of the crowd.

Fiona, who was sitting on my other side, stood and made her way onstage. Millard - back in his clothes, thank god, carried a planter full of dirt to the center of the stage and left before Fiona arrived, leaving her alone on the stage. The orchestra began playing a crude version of "Flight of the Bumblebee" as she arrived behind the planter. She began moving her hands above the box, her face full of such determination that I felt myself growing more focused and concentrated just watching her. Finally, a row of bright, beautiful daisies burst forth from the dirt just as the music crescendoed. They grew towards her hands with speed, and as she raised her hands higher, the daisies grew at the same speed.

Before long, Hugh joined her onstage, opening his mouth to let his bees fly out and pollinate the daisies. It looked to be a peculiar mating ritual of sorts, and I decided that I'd bet good money on the two of them being a couple for real.

Only a two acts followed after them; Claire ate corn straight off the cob with her backmouth, and Enoch displayed how he could take the heart of a mouse and put it inside a clay doll in order to bring it to life. Both were quite amazing, but by the time Enoch's doll was walking around, most of the children had begun itching to get moving again, never comfortable with sitting down for longer than ten minutes unless they were eating.

After about a half hour of lounging around or playing croquet, that's exactly what we did: eat. Leftovers from the previous night's goose were put into sandwiches, followed by some creamy chocolate pudding. After the younger children ran off to attend one of Miss Peregrine's lessons, us older children remained at the table in the sitting room, lounging about in the cool house, away from the late summer heat. Soon enough, Emma began complaining that she wanted to go to the beach.

"Absolutely not," Millard protested. I turned my head to look at him, leaning back in his chair with his suit jacket unbuttoned. "I'm quite stuffed, thank you very much."

"I'd just sink, no doubt," Bronwyn commented, her voice muffled slightly by a pillow as she curled up on a loveseat. Regardless, not fifteen minutes later, Emma, Bronwyn, Fiona, Hugh, Horace, Jacob, and I were all heading out the door, a slightly upset Millard on our heels, miffed that we were about to leave without him.

"The best place to swim is the harbor," Emma informed Jacob and me as we walked through the forest.

My eyes widened when I realized going to the harbor would require strolling straight through town. "What about those guys at the Priest Hole? You know, the ones who want Jake and I dead?""Don't be daft," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "They wanted you two dead yesterday, but because of the loop, they'll remember nothing of you." I nodded before Jacob spoke up./p

"Don't be daft," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "They wanted you two dead yesterday, but because of the loop, they'll remember nothing of you." I nodded before Jacob spoke up."So, uh... what about our clothes? We don't exactly fit in around here." At his words, I looked down at my outfit; jean capris, a white tank top, and my olive green hoodie tied around my waist. He had a point./p

"So, uh... what about our clothes? We don't exactly fit in around here." At his words, I looked down at my outfit; jean capris, a white tank top, and my olive green hoodie tied around my waist. He had a point.

Horace was the one to answer the question, giving Jacob and me each a towel each as he spoke. "Hang these around your necks. It will do a well enough job of covering your... future clothes." I did as Horace said before I examined his outfit.

"Of course, I don't want anyone thinking I dress oddly." My remark, though sarcastic, was aimed particularly at the fact that Horace was dressed in a suit, bow-tie and all.

"Well, if you're referring to my waistcoat, I can admit, I'm quite the follower of fashion." His remark sent everyone snickering. "Oh, call me a fob, I don't mind, but just because the villagers won't remember my clothes doesn't allow me to dress like a poor man! Besides, if all we have to look forward to in the future is that," he took a pause and pointed an accusing finger at Jacob, "God, help us all!"

As the laughter began to die down, we picked up our pace again, heading into town now. I watched as Jacob pulled Emma away from the group slightly, and I had no desire to find out what they were talking about. I looked away when I heard the sound of footsteps beside me. It was - no surprise - Millard.

"So, how did you enjoy the show this morning? I never had the chance to ask you." I smile at the question, images returning to my head of the feats the children had accomplished just a couple hours before.

"It was great, really. Jacob told me you juggled glass bottles. It's a shame I missed it." At my words, Millard furrowed his eyebrows.

"Well, there's no reason you - oh! Never mind. I'm still getting used to the idea of being seen," he said, his face falling.

I sigh, then cast a quick glance towards Horace. "So, aside from his style, what makes Horace peculiar?" Millard followed my gaze.

"Oh, Horace? He has prophetic dreams. They can be quite harsh on him sometimes, too, and very often come true." I nodded to let him know that I understood.

"I see," I murmured, and we continued in silence. I was shocked when we arrived in town. By that time, I had wrapped and tucked the towel under my armpits, giving off the illusion that I was already in my bathing suit, and as I had been told, no one recognized me. We made our way quickly through town, only a few odd looks tossed our way by the townsfolk. It felt like the oddest case of deja vu.

It was weird to see everything so different, yet so similar. In all honesty, I half-expected to see myself and Jacob running down the street away from an angry mob of people, but as we passed the Priest Hole, I saw two of the men who had been after Jacob and I yesterday having a casual conversation.

Jacob was the first to break the silence as we finally left the town. "You guys must know a lot about this place since you've lived here so long."

"Oh, it's Millard who really knows everything," Horace said nonchalantly. "He's been writing a book about everything here for the past seventy years. How long did you spend on pigs again, Mill?"

"Three years," he replied, a blush coming to his cheeks. I nearly burst out laughing.

"You must be patient as fuck, then," I commented.

Millard frowned. "I am indeed patient. Though, I don't appreciate your choice of words." Jacob let out an audible 'ooh' before backing away. I crossed my arms over my chest as a smirk fell across my lips.

"Is that so? Well, I don't appreciate your constant nagging at my 'choice of words'. For fuck's sake, just let me be! God!" Millard's frown seemed to deepen, though I supposed that was nearly impossible at that point.

"Very well. If that's how you see it, I will." With that, Millard walked away, leaving everyone else behind. I looked around at the others, to see faces of shock or amusement, though mostly the latter.

"So," Jacob started, "when's the wedding?"

I started walking again, Hugh and Fiona doing the same. "Fuck you," I replied, then turned back around and followed Millard's shrinking figure toward the harbor. "Patient my ass," I muttered under my breath, glaring at him.

At long last, we made it to the harbor, then began walking along until we reached the best part of the beach. Well, the least rocky part of the beach, though it was, quite frankly, beautiful. It was only when we reached our destination that I realized something important.

"Uh, guys? I don't have any of my bathing suits with me." It wouldn't usually a problem - I knew I could just strip to my bra and underwear - but this was 1940's Britain, not Florida in 2013. The most any of the boys would have seen of the female body would have been knees, or perhaps a scandalous sliver of midriff and back. Although, seeing as Millard was invisible to everyone else, who knew what sort of antics he got up to? He was spying on literally everyone in town, after all.

Emma looked thoughtful for a moment, frowning before she came up with a solution. "Well, we'd waste too much time going back to the house for an extra suit. I don't suppose the boys would mind too much if you just wore your underthings. That's what they're going to be doing, anyway." We all agreed that that would be the best decision and that from now on I would bring an extra suit with me, just in case. Then Emma, Bronwyn, and Fiona left to change into their own, modest bathing suits while the rest of us stripped, save for Horace, who removed next to nothing aside from his shoes and tie. When the girls came back, we all began swimming.

Emma and Bronwyn had their own little race while the rest of us just relaxed and swam around in the shallower area of the water. When we grew too tired to swim, we made our way onto the sand to lay down and relax. When it grew too warm to just sit around, we went back into the water. It went on and on like that for hours. When we finally decided to call it quits, the sun was nearing the horizon, and my skin had a more rosy tint than usual.

All tired out from swimming, we began talking instead. The kids had so many questions for Jacob and me, and we could finally answer truthfully without the watchful eye of Miss Peregrine regulating our every word. What did we eat? What kind of clothes did we wear? When would science finally find a cure for illness and death? I mean, sure, they had their own sort of fountain of youth, but they were thirsting for new people and information and stories. So, Jacob and I told them.

They were fascinated by most of what we had to say: we've finally reached the moon, the various wars, cellular telephones, on-demand television programs! Even air conditioning and airplanes intrigued them, though those things seemed so basic to us two 'future kids'. We showed them our phones, which seemed to be the thing which grabbed their attention most.

When we finally began the walk back to the house, the sun was beginning to set, sending the sky into a frenzy of brilliant pinks and purples and oranges. Our conversation - though still going - was winding down, and I couldn't help but notice the flirting going on between Jacob and Emma. When they stopped by an apple tree, the rest of us kept going with amused smiles on our faces.

I noticed Millard was walking a little behind the rest of the group, so I slowed my pace and fell into step next to him. "Hey, uh, Millard?" I began, "I'm sorry about that argument earlier. Really, it's super cool that you're writing a book."

"I suppose it is," he said curtly, and even though I could tell he probably didn't want to talk - especially not with me - I continued speaking.

"So, what's it about?"

"Well, I'm intending to write the world's first complete account of a day in the life of a single town, written from the point of view of each individual in it. Every word, every breath, every blink - I've been documenting it all." I couldn't help but notice the small, proud smile growing on his face, and in the shrinking light from the sun, I noticed for the first time that he was really quite attractive.

"And just how many points of view are there?" I inquired, walking a little closer to him until our hands bumped together and I stepped away once more.

Millard hardly seemed fazed. "Well, there are one hundred fifty-nine human inhabitants, and three hundred thirty-two animals of varying species. Though some days may be tedious, I find the whole thing quite fascinating, really."

I was about to respond, but Jacob spoke up. I hadn't even realized how far we'd gone - or that he and Emma had returned to the group. "Hey, it's getting kind late. We should be heading back now."

"Oh, I should at least escort you," Emma said in response, hardly missing a beat. There were no objections, so we all waved goodbye as Jacob, Emma, and I walked away from the group and toward the cairn.

I walked ahead of the two budding lovebirds, leaving them room to speak alone. Besides, I remembered how to get to the cairn on my own. The idea of Jacob and Emma was.. disturbing to me, to say the least. I mean, sure, they were cute, and I wasn't jealous - please, Jacob was like my brother! No, it was the fact that she dated his grandpa. She was, in theory, old enough to be his - or my - grandmother. It was a little more than awkward to think about.

I crossed over long before Jacob and Emma but decided I'd wait for Jake. After five minutes, I left without him. Damn, whatever they were talking about must've been quite important. Or maybe they were just making out to an excessive extent.

When I arrived back in town, I was immediately ambushed by three men. "Where's your friend?" one asked harshly.

"Yeah, and where've you been all day?"

"W-what do you mean? We've been hiking. Jake's still out in the forest. Y'know, taking pictures and whatnot. Why?" I had the alibi memorized by the time I reached the loop that morning.

"A likely story," the third man said. "Go get him. We've got some questions for the both of you."

I turned back was about to head back into the woods when I saw Jake emerge from the trees. I ran toward him a bit, waving my arms and shouting. "Jake!" I called. "Jacob! C'mere!" He saw me, then probably the three men behind me, before he broke into a quick jog, reaching us in a matter of a couple minutes.

"What is it Kal?" he asked me, then looked at the three men. "Who are you?"

"Never mind that. You two are comin' with us," the first man said, then grabbed my arm while one of the other men took hold of Jacob. They took us across town and toward what looked like a farm. My suspicions were correct when I saw a sheep pen. Though, there was a lot more blood than I expected. I felt the bile rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down and looked away before I threw up. There was another kid there, a sixteen-year-old boy, held by the shirt collar by one of the farmers.

"There they are!" He called, pointing in our direction. Another farmer, one with a threatening looking pitchfork, approached us quickly with big, galumphing footsteps.

"Where's you two been?" he asked, giving Jake and me the stink-eye.

Jacob looked at me with worry. I repeated what I said the first time, hoping Jake would go along with my story. "Like I told these guys, we were hiking, exploring the forest and all that." Jake nodded, and I hoped to god that this guy liked our story, or else I could see a pitchfork impaling me in the near future.

"Sure you were. I bet you were with this guy, killing my sheep!" I laughed at the accusation.

"Are you kidding me? Just seeing blood makes me want to puke!" I wasn't the only one who protested, though, 'cause the boy - still in the other farmer's grasp - did so as well. "Besides, I've never seen him in my life," I said, gesturing towards the kid.

The farmer with the pitchfork looked between the three of us kids before turning back to Jake and me with a grim smile on his face. "Alright, I'll let you off this time. But if this sort of thing happens again and you don't have a good alibi, I'll be blamin' you two."

"Wait-" Jacob finally spoke. "How many sheep were killed?" he asked. One of the men who escorted us there was the one to reply.

"Five, all mine. Murdered right in their pen, they were."

I gave him a small, sad smile before Jacob continued speaking. "Well, that many sheep must have a whole lot of blood. Wouldn't the murderer be covered in it?" All the men were silent for a moment before they began nodding.

"Fair point," the one with the pitchfork said. He nodded to the two men holding Jake and me, and they let go. "You two can head back home now. You're off the hook. For now." I finally breathed a sigh of relief, glad that I was walking away with Jacob rather than laying on the ground with three new, pitchfork-prong sized holes through my chest.

When we finally made it back to the Priest Hole, Jacob went and took a shower while I had a nice, warm bowl of soup to relax after what we'd just been through. I was surprised I was still able to eat, seeing as I'd just seen a shit ton of blood, but I was hungry. It's been too long since lunch. Our roles reversed and I took a long shower and brushed my teeth before Jake and I both headed off to bed.

As I was drifting off to sleep, I saw the little glow of Jacob's phone screen coming through the doorway and heard a delighted sigh. What had I missed? I'd have to ask at breakfast, because right then, all I wanted to do was shut my eyes and sleep. So I did.


	11. Chapter Ten

The next morning, Jacob and I crossed over to see a grand total of no one waiting for us. Neither of us was surprised, though, as we both knew the way back to the house by heart now. Well, I did. With all the time Jake and Emma spent together, I'd be surprised if he even recognized the forest around us.

We made it to the house in just a short amount of time, and almost immediately, Jacob began searching anxiously for someone - Emma, no doubt. However, before he could wander too far off, Miss Peregrine approached us.

"I must speak with you two." Of course, we went with her. She led us to the kitchen, empty of children yet still overwhelmingly full of the smell of their breakfast. Miss Peregrine leaned herself against the counter before she began speaking. "Are you two enjoying yourselves here?"

"Of course. This place is... amazing," I replied, hoping the response would be satisfactory.

"Very good," Miss Peregrine said, then adjusted her glasses before she spoke once more. "I'm aware that you and some of my wards had quite the fun day yesterday at the beach. And many lovely conversations, of course."

Jacob was the one to answer this time. "Oh, yeah. They're all real great." I nodded in agreement, though I could tell by the look in Miss Peregrine's eyes that she wasn't quite as happy.

"Is that so? Well, what sort of topics did you speak about?" I swallowed, nervous about what she was getting at with all these questions. Our conversations yesterday with the kids were still fresh in my mind, so I replied when Jacob stayed quiet.

"Well, we talked about tons of stuff. Things here, things on our side of the loop, our favorite foods, that sort of stuff."

"On your side?" Miss Peregrine echoed the words like it was a question, even though Jake and I both knew she knew perfectly well what we meant. Nonetheless, Jake and I both nodded. "Do you think it's wise to speak of such futuristic things with these children?"

"You really think of them as children?" Jacob blurted out, and we both instantly realized it was the wrong thing to say.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to shrink under Miss Peregrine's hard glare. "They regard themselves as children, as well, Mr. Portman," she said, her voice lowering a bit. "Do they look like anything other than that?"

"Well, no," Jake replied, looking away from her eyes. I shook my head 'no' as well, showing that I agreed with him.

"Precisely. Now, back to the original topic. Do you two think that it's wise to tell children of the past about the future?" Jake and I both shook our heads, replying with weak 'no's before Miss Peregrine continued speaking. "Well, it seems you do. Of course, I only know this because my wards are incredibly excited for it. Just last night at dinner, Hugh gave us a wonderful explanation of the twenty-first century's telecommunications technology."

I took a cautious step forward. "Is that really such a bad thing, though? I thought you were all for them learning new stuff?" She stepped toward me, leading me to step back once more, and spoke.

"It most definitely is, Miss Sanders. As an ymbryne, it is my duty to keep these children safe, right here, right now. They can never be part of your world, so why would you tell them of such things if they will never be allowed to experience them?""We're sorry, really. We didn't know," Jake replied, his voice raising in pitch a little./p

"We're sorry, really. We didn't know," Jake replied, his voice raising in pitch a little.

"I'm certain you are, but you mustn't tell them anything else. They must stay in this loop, and I'd very much appreciate it if you would keep it that way."

I nodded, though Jacob spoke once more. "Well, why?"

"Excuse me?" Miss Peregrine was surprised by his question. In all honesty, I was, too.

"Why can't they leave?" Miss Peregrine looked about ready to slap him, but I must admit, I was wondering the same thing.

"Your ignorance does not become you, Mr. Portman." Then, instead of answering, she turned and began washing a pan. I was just about ready to leave when she turned around and finally began speaking again. "They cannot stay in your world for too long, or they will - in the simplest terms - grow old and die."

I could have sworn, my mouth made a perfect 'o'. "Like, death? They won't be able to just - go back once they reenter the loop?" Miss Peregrine looked quite fed up at this point, but she answered my question regardless.

"They'll die. There is no way to reverse that." I could tell she wanted to change the topic, and in all honestly, I wanted to, as well. "I understand that it may seem that we've found a way to cheat death, but we haven't. If the children stay on your side of the loop for too long, their years will catch up to them and they'll begin aging in a matter of minutes. Within an hour or so, they'll be dust."

My heart broke. Well, it felt like it broke. "That's horrible," I murmured. Jacob shuddered.

"Indeed, it is. Some of my worst memories include these instances, you know. And I assure you both, I've been around long enough to see some terribly gruesome things. Years ago - 1985 or '86, I believe - one of my old wards, Charlotte, managed to wander out of the loop without any of the older children noticing. I was only gone to visit one of my sister ymbrynes for a day, so I never imagined anything happening. The constable found her wandering through town, and when he disliked her answers to his questions, she was sent off to a child welfare agency in London. In the two days it took for me to find her, she'd aged thirty-five years." My sad mood darkened at Miss Peregrine's story.

"What happened then?" Jacob asked, hoping as I was that there would be a happy ending.

"She's off living with Miss Nightjar now. She and Miss Thrush take all the hard cases."

Jacob and I were both silent for a few moments, taking in all the new information we'd been given. It was beginning to get too much, really. This heaven wasn't so heavenly, it seemed. "Well, they could still leave the island within the loop, right? Would they begin aging again if they just... left the house?" I asked. Miss Peregrine frowned.

"I suppose they would, but it would hardly be the best choice. The war is still going on, and I don't even want to mention how people may react to their abilities, even if some are more obscure than others. Besides, there are other dangers out there. It is best for them to stay right here," Miss Peregrine said, though it sounded like she was only just deciding it for herself, rather than informing Jake and me about the matter.

"Wait, what other dangers?" Jacob asked, hardly missing a beat. To be frank, I was wondering the same thing, and Miss Peregrine's response was far less than satisfactory.

"Oh, it's nothing for you two to worry about. Not at the moment, anyway." The look on her face as she spoke troubled me, but though I ached to pry deeper into the subject, I remained silent. "Now, go on," she continued, "it's beautiful out this morning. Miss Bloom and Mr. Nullings are sure to waiting for you two."

I rolled my eyes at her words and followed Jake outside. I decided I'd follow him around until he found Emma, then I'd go off and explore for myself and meet the other kids. Emma was, however, out on a supply run to the village, so Jake decided to lay down under a shady tree and wait. Annoyed at his 'love-stuck-puppy' behavior, I headed off on my own.

It didn't take me too long to find myself another person to speak with. Fiona was out, tending to her garden, though it hardly needed it. She wasn't much of a conversationalist, though, only nodding or saying a few thickly-accented words. I left once Hugh came by and gave me a look that said they'd want to be alone. I didn't pry.

I wandered off again and found my way into a game of catch with Claire and Olive, who were more than happy to get my mind off the harrowing conversation I'd had with Miss Peregrine. They didn't even know they were helping, but I suppose if they knew about the conversation, they wouldn't know what to do. Nonetheless, they were having lots of fun, and so was I.

We'd been tossing the ball around for about half an hour when something tapped my shoulder. I let out a yelp before I turned around, only to see a buck-naked Millard. "Y'know, you could at least put some clothes on before you sneak up on me like that," I said with a heavy sigh, sending the girls into giggles behind me.

"Right, sorry. Once that's done, though, I would very much like to have a chat with you," Millard replied, and Olive and Claire only giggled harder. I rolled my eyes at their childish behavior - well, they were children - and nodded.

"Fine. I'll be inside in a few minutes, then." Millard smiled and headed back toward the house. I turned to face the girls who were looking up as me with giddy smiles.

"We think Millard likes you!" Claire blurted out.

Olive nodded vigorously before putting in her own two cents. "He always talks about things you said and did and how intri- intreeg- ... how interesting you are!" I rolled my eyes again, disregarding their words.

"Don't be silly. We've hardly known each other for three days. How could he like me in such a short time?" Claire and Olive both shrugged, and I turned back to look at where I'd last seen the topic of our conversation. "Besides, he hardly seems like the type to have any romantic interest in someone. He seems more like he'd be in love with his book."

Olive and Claire looked at each other, then me again. "Well, we still think he likes you. Now go, you've got a date!" Olive exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh, please, it's not a date. We're friends. We talk. It's no big deal." The girls just smiled and began tossing the ball between themselves again, so I decided it'd be best for me to head inside to meet with Millard.

It was preposterous, the idea that he liked me. I mean, it was definitely too soon to say anything. But how long had the girls been waiting for something new and exciting to tease people about? I know what sort of person I was like at their age, and if one of my friends even so much as looked at a guy, I'd tease her along with our other friends. Of course, after my dad got remarried I knew not to assume anyone's sexualities anymore, but I was young and looking for fun. I supposed this was no different. I'd let Claire and Olive have their fun, for now, at least. As soon as things got awkward, I'd put an end to it.

I had only just stepped into the house when Millard, fully clothed, appeared at the top of the stairs. "Perfect timing," I commented, a breathy laugh escaping my lips.

"Indeed," Millard replied, descending the steps towards me. "Join me in the living room?" Well, I didn't see why not.

"Sure," I replied casually, then followed him as we made our way to the living room we sat in the previous day before we all went swimming. "So, what did you want to talk about?" I asked as I settled into a velvety chair.

"I recall you mentioning something about seeing Miss Peregrine's photo album, is that correct?" Millard asked, reaching under one of the cushions on the loveseat. Confused, I nodded, affirming his words. "Well, this morning I managed to swipe this from her study while she was still asleep." As he spoke, he removed his hand from the cushion, revealing the photo album in all its mysterious glory.

I leaped up from my seat at the sight of it and walked forward until I could touch it for myself. "Oh, my god! Isn't she going to, like, kill you if she finds out?"

"Well, I should hope not. I intend on returning it as soon as possible. She doesn't look at it too often, I believe." I took it from him, still in shock that he took it. It was nothing special on the outside, but I knew that on the inside it was filled with pictures that would be impossible to explain to a normal person. I sat down on the love seat and opened the book tentatively, careful not to crinkle any of the pages or photos. I barely noticed when Millard sat next to me.

We sat there, looking through the pictures quietly unless I had a question or Millard had a particularly interesting story about one of them. Most were of the children and other middle-aged ladies - ymbrynes, I supposed - but one in particular caught my eye.

"Is that Charlotte?" I asked, pointing to a picture of three women - well, two women and a little girl with a woman's face. Millard happy smile vanished as he looked at me, his brown eyes glinting with worry.

"You know about Charlotte?" he asked, and I nearly smacked myself. Of course, it was probably a sensitive subject.

"Yeah," I replied, almost in a whisper. "Miss Peregrine told Jake and me about her this morning. Right after lecturing us about talking about the future with you guys." Millard only nodded, and we both searched for words to say. I finally settled on a simple 'it's horrible what happened to her', and he replied with an equally simple 'it couldn't be helped'.

We continued looking through the pictures in silence - our previously happy mood dampened by the gravity of Charlotte's story - until I closed the book. The silence continued, growing more and more awkward until an idea came to mind. "Do you guys have a piano here?"

Millard looked up. "Well, yes, but nobody's played it in years." I stood, tucking the photo album under my arm.

"That shouldn't be much a problem, though. If the loop is as effective as it seems to be, it should still be in tune, right?" Millard thought for a moment, then nodded and rose as well.

"Come along, then." At his words, we made our way out of the living room until we found ourselves in a small room. All it fit was a piano, a bench, and a few small tables littered with books and vases of flowers. "I suppose you want to play? I've no skill at all, but Miss Peregrine was teaching Emma and Fiona for a while," Millard said as I sat on the bench. I didn't respond - instead, I rested my fingers on the ivory keys and tested a few. It was, as I expected, perfectly tuned.

So I began playing. Millard stood silently while I played a shitty rendition of the first movement of Moonlight Sonata - or, at least, what I could remember of it. When I finished, Millard clapped, though I really expected no less from him. "You don't have to do that, you know," I said, removing my hands from the piano keys and placing them onto the bench, putting my weight on them and slouching in the process.

"You were great, Kallie, really. I had no idea you could play like that," he replied, and I couldn't help but laugh a little as I stood up, swiping a piece of my cherry red hair out of my eyes.

"Of course you wouldn't, I never told you I could play. But I know what you mean - I don't look like the sort of person who would play the piano." Millard gave me a small half smile as he replied.

"You don't like the person who would do plenty of things. Like cursing, for instance. Tell me, what else can you do that one might not expect at first glance?"

I thought for a moment, but all that came to mind was hardly impressive. "I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue. And I'm really good at art - painting, especially." Millard's eyes brightened at the last part of what I said.

"Can you?" he asked. Not wanting to repeat myself aloud, I nodded. "Could you..." he trailed off, suddenly nervous. "Could you paint me?"

The request startled me. What an odd thing to ask, really. I mean surely he could...

"You can't even see yourself?" I asked, my eyes widening.

"Not since I was six years old," Millard replied, and I could almost feel my heart sink.

I gave him a sad smile and looked at the clock in the room. It was nearly time for lunch. "Well, I can't right now, seeing as it's almost lunch and I don't have the right provisions. But I'd be glad to, Millard." His smile grew at my words, and he looked like a kid running down the stairs on Christmas day.

"Thank you so much, Kallie. That would be amazing. You can do it after lunch! I know where the Headmistress keeps the painting supplies. If I tell her what we're doing I'm sure she'd be more than happy to let you use them." Just as he finished speaking, Bronwyn's voice boomed through the house, letting everyone know it was time for lunch. Noon, on the dot. That house was run tighter than a ship.

We were all nearing the end of our lunch consisting of various finger sandwiches and fruits when Millard said something that sent all eyes onto me. "Oh, did I mention," he began nonchalantly, "that Kallie has offered to paint my portrait after we've finished eating?"

Right then, I wished that I was the invisible one. The sudden attention was too much, and I found myself sending Millard a harsh glare. "Is this true, Miss Sanders?" Miss Peregrine asked me, a small smile on her face. All it took to send the children into an excited frenzy was my nod. I supposed they were all wondering what Millard looked like. It was completely understandable, but I wished they wouldn't make such a ruckus out of it.

"I can't wait to see what he looks like!"

"When will you be done the painting?"

"I'll laugh if he looks like a girl." Enoch's comment sent everyone into small fits of laughter. I looked at Millard and shook my head, unimpressed by Enoch's words, but still letting him know that he didn't.

Before long, Millard was wearing his favorite outfit and sat in his favorite chair in the library and I had a canvas set up in front of me with a few tubes of paint. I didn't mind that there were so few - I could always mix the paints, and I didn't need giant gobs of the stuff to do so. Once Millard was comfortable, I began the painting.

I was nervous to begin, of course, as many young artists are. What scared me most was the pressure - and the hope that Millard wouldn't tire. Good portraits took time, but he said he would be fine sitting still for hours if it meant every detail would be perfect.

Soon, I was absorbed in my work. I was sure to pay extra attention to his actual features, rather than his clothes or the background, which the children must have seen at least a thousand times. I had to make the perfect browns for his eyes and darker yellows for his hair. The gentle waves in it were nearly infuriating to paint, but when I had finished, they seemed almost photo-realistic as they framed his still-drying face. His skin tone was quite tan, which I hadn't really noticed before. I supposed that even though he was invisible, the sun's rays still affected his skin, and after spending so long outside, studying everything, it would take its toll on him.

After about four hours, I had finished and was adding a few extra touches of red to the books in the background. When I finally stepped away from the canvas a bit, I took in the painting as a whole, rather than looking at each individual part like I usually did when I painted. A smile came to my face - he looked like he could be a sort of wiry football player, the sort of guy cheerleaders would swoon over. A light blush rose on my cheeks. I refused to notice it before - probably because he was naked half the time I'd known him - but he really was quite attractive.

"I've finished, you can move now," I told him, my eyes never leaving the canvas. It was the sort of thing where you think something looks so good that you're surprised that you were the one who made it. Millard rose from his chair and made his way to my side. I heard his breath catch in his throat, and I finally looked up at him to see him stroking his own face tentatively.

"I... Is that me?" he asked in a whisper, and I wasn't sure, but I could have sworn I saw his eyes grow watery.

"Yeah," I replied just as quietly, as if there was something in the room that wouldn't allow our voices to raise past a whisper. I backed up a bit to let Millard stand fully in front of the canvas and take the whole thing in. It was amazing to watch, really. To me, he was - in the nicest way - nothing special. I could see him every time I looked at him, but he hadn't seen himself in, well, nearly forever. Nobody had.

Finally, after a few quiet moments - the only sound being the ticking clock - Millard turned and engulfed me in his embrace. I was startled at first but soon wrapped my arms around his torso, returning the sudden hug. "Thank you," he whispered into my hair, which was sort of uncomfortable, but he stepped back before I could get used to it. "It's amazing, really." He wiped at his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tears forming in his eyes. "You're amazing."

I couldn't help but blush - no one had been so forward in saying that to me before, well, aside from my dad and James. "Thanks, I guess," I replied. We both stared at the painting in silence for another moment before he spoke once more.

"We should get the others. They'll want to see it, too." I nodded, and we headed off to fetch the other children and Miss Peregrine. It didn't take too long, of course. Everyone was outside enjoying the warm, late summer afternoon. As soon as Millard and I came into view, everyone stood. In next to no time, they had all found their way to the library, where my canvas was still drying.

Various gasps and murmurs of delight sounded around the room at the sight of the painting, followed by much praise for myself and many compliments to Millard. Miss Peregrine decided she would hang it in the entrance in the morning when all the paint was dry. I was sure there would be smart comments from the children for the next few days - maybe weeks. 'Your hair looks rather dashing today, Mill!' or 'my, your eyes are particularly dazzling today, Millard'. Already I was smiling at the thought.

As we were all filing out of the library, Millard turned to me once more. "Is there anything you can't do?" he asked, a small smile on his face. I grinned back.

"Yeah, I can't sing for shit."

I was nervous: understatement of the century. It was midnight and there I was, sneaking down the stairs of the Priest Hole, slipping silently through the door, making my way through the town, hiding in the shadows of the trees, crawling through the cairn, walking toward the harbor with Millard. When he had asked me after dinner to sneak out to speak with him by the harbor, I was more than a little confused. He hardly seemed like the type of person who would partake in such actions, but the fervorous tone in his voice was enough to get me to agree.

We made our way silently through the town, sneaking through alleys and backways until we had left it behind. As soon as I was sure the village was behind us, I finally spoke up. "Thanks for putting on some clothes. I know how inconvenient it can be sometimes."

"It's no problem." While Millard's response was meant to brush off my comment, I still supposed it was a problem. I mean, what use was being invisible if you had to wear clothes for just one person? We carried on in silence until we reached the spot where we had all gone swimming.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked, sitting in the sand. It was chilly outside, despite the fact that it was late summer and it was hot all day. I regretted only wearing shorts and a sweatshirt, my bathing suit underneath - just in case we went swimming, for some fucking reason. Millard sat down next to me - in a much more sensible pair of pants and a dark green sweater.

"There's... er... something you should know," he started, growing a bit nervous. "This place... it isn't quite the wonderland you may think it is."

Well, that was a completely different turn than I was expecting. "What do you mean? If you're talking about the aging thing when you leave the loop, you know I already know that. We talked about Charlotte earlier, remember?" I pointed out, becoming both confused and worried about what he would say next.

"No, I know, and it's not. There's, um... I'm not quite sure how to put this, Kallie, but we - all peculiars - have this... enemy. Monsters, in the most literal sense. Emma and I have a hunch that Jacob can see them as Abe had..." Millard trailed off when he looked at me, my eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped. "I'm sorry, I must sound insane," he apologized. I shook my head, a small smile growing on my face.

"Not at all. Everything is beginning to make sense, actually. Before we left Florida to come here, Abe told me that he was killed by monsters - wights, I think he called them. They eat the souls of peculiars, right?" I was kind of proud that I remembered what Abe had told me nearly two months ago.

"Well, not quite," Millard replied. "Wights are certainly terrible, but they're more human than monster. The real monsters are the hollowgast - empty-souled, by definition. All Miss Peregrine has told me is that in 1908, many male peculiars and traitorous ymbrynes joined together in Siberia, and after a large explosion, the women died and the men became immortal monsters. That's what they were looking for in the first place - immortality."

It was quite a lot to take in. I took a deep breath before speaking again. "And I assume they're the ones who eat peculiars?" Millard nodded.

"That's how they become wights. If they intake enough souls, they become human - well, in the lightest terms. They appear human, but they're still far too corrupt to be considered so. The best way to find a wight is by looking at their eyes; they're pure white, as their name suggests." I nodded at his response, then something dawned on me.

"What does Jacob think of all this?" Millard looked away, over the calm waves caressing the shore of the beach.

"He doesn't know yet. I'm not even supposed to be telling you this - the Headmistress would have my head if she found out I've told you. It just felt wrong, not having you know and all."

I nodded, hardly paying attention as I caught sight of something over Millard's shoulder. Two figures sat in the water by a boat, speaking. I could tell just by their figures and hairstyles that it was Jake and Emma. "Well, it looks to me like Jake's about to find out." Then they kissed. "Or... not."

Millard turned to look at the sight and began laughing quietly, and I couldn't help but join in. "It's barely been a week, and they're already snogging like a married couple," Millard commented, looking back at me with a much happier look in his eyes than what had been there only a moment ago. I liked seeing him like this - happy, enjoying himself.

After a while, we sat quietly together by the beach, leaning against a wide tree by the water's edge, looking out over the water. Stars were reflected in it, making the water appear as though it wasn't there, and instead was just an expansion of the night sky. There was seldom a ripple in the water, and aside from our breathing and the wind through the trees, all was silent. Jacob and Emma's voices didn't even carry through the air toward us.

Before long my eyelids began to grow heavy, and I leaned my head on Millard's shoulder. He didn't retaliate, thank god. In fact, he - slowly - rested his head on mine. Unfortunately, our relaxed states had to come to an end, as we realized we should probably begin to head back. We both looked across the water once more to see Jake and Emma still talking, so we head off, back towards the town. This time, however, Millard lead me through the trees bordering the town, which weren't as thick as the forest, but still slightly creepy in the dark. I knew, however, that despite the fact that we'd only known each other a short time, Millard wouldn't put me in any danger. Not on purpose.


	12. Chapter Eleven

We were making our way quietly toward the house when we saw Hugh and Fiona approaching. As they neared, they caught sight of us as well. Knowing there was no chance of avoiding an awkward conversation, we stepped out from the trees. "What are you two doing out here? Have you seen Emma?" Hugh asked, concern on his face, though I was sure it wasn't for Millard and me.

"Yes, she and Jacob were by the lighthouse, last we saw. And we were just talking. How about you? Has something happened?" Millard replied, pushing aside the topic of our meeting.

"One of Miss Peregrine's friends flew in about an hour ago with the devil in her eyes screaming bloody murder. Before we could gain any information, she passed right out. Something terrible has happened, I can feel it. You two best be heading off to the house now and see what's going on. We'll be back around soon." Millard and I nodded before he took my hand and we ran off towards the house.

When we arrived, the children - all stirred from their slumber - we bustling about around the door to the sitting room. I took one look at Claire and Olive, both terrified of what might have happened, and made my way over, sitting between them and letting each burrow into my sides. Before long, Jacob, Emma, Hugh, and Fiona returned.

We began discussing what might have happened, though due to our lack of knowledge of nearly everything to do with these people, Jake and I remained silent. There were various theories: they forgot to set their loop, some children escaped and aged too far forward, and one rather unsettling idea from Enoch that hollows had managed to devour each and every one of them

"Shut up!" Hugh cried to him, noticing the horrified looks on the girls' faces, and sent him running off down the hall by a swarm of bees.

"What on earth is- was that Mr. Apiston? Where are our four deserters?" Emma cringed and I glared at Hugh.

"You told her?" Emma whispered angrily.

Hugh shrugged. "I had no choice." He then looked to Millard. "When she found out you two were gone, she nearly had a heart attack, thinking you two had been abducted. I had no choice, I'm sorry." With little more to be said, the four of us 'deserters' headed into the room, Millard resting a hand on my shoulder as we went to calm my growing nerves.

The fire in the hearth was the only source of light in the room, but it was enough to illuminate the three figures already inside. Bronwyn was there - I had been a bit worried when I hadn't seen her outside - standing next to a frail looking woman wrapped in a blanket sitting in a chair, her face looking as pale as snow. Miss Peregrine was next to her, balancing her weight on a fragile looking footstool, feeding the woman some soup.

"By God," Millard began, recognizing the woman.

"It's Miss Avocet!" Emma concluded, then the pieces fell into place. I'd seen this woman a couple times now, once when Miss Peregrine showed Jake and I some pictures from her past, and a second occurrence when Millard had taken her photo album to show it to me. She had looked so strong, though, and now she looked like she'd break into a million pieces with one touch.

Miss Peregrine gave the older woman something to drink from a flask, and for a moment, she looked like she was alright. Unfortunately, she quickly returned to her former sullen state. Miss Peregrine then turned to Bronwyn and ordered her to fetch some wine and brandy, and to also prepare the fainting couch. The girl promptly left to do so.

At last, the Headmistress turned to the four of us, still standing by the door. "Miss Bloom, Mr. Nullings, I must say, I'm incredibly disappointed in your actions. Of all the nights to sneak off, you two choose this one." Millard, always a little suck up, took a tentative step forward.

"In our defense, how were we to know anything would happen? Even I didn't see this coming, nor did Horace, I suppose. He would tell me if something like this was to happen." Miss Peregrine disregarded Millard's completely logical explanation and instead began patting down Miss Avocet's messy white hair.

"I ought to punish the both of you, but it hardly seems fit, considering the circumstances. Miss Avocet would never leave her wards unattended unless something terrible had happened." I frowned, confused and concerned. What could have happened? If Miss Avocet was anything like Miss Peregrine, surely she would never leave her charges' sides. I thought back to what Millard had told me only about an hour ago - could it really have been wights? Then, another thought dawned on me.

"Miss Peregrine, when were you going to tell us?"

At my question, the Headmistress grew confused, though, after a glance between Millard and Emma, she seemed to understand what I meant. "Soon, Miss Sanders. I knew that if I had told you two right away, it might have scared the both of you off for good. I just couldn't take the risk."

"So, what? You didn't want to lose us, so you seduced us with all that fun, and food, and - and girls while you kept all the bad stuff to yourselves?" Jacob seemed to have reached his limit. Emma clearly looked offended, though.

"Seduced?" she cried, bitterness and sarcasm obvious in her voice. "Well, it's nice to know you think so highly of me, Jacob. You certainly know how to make a girl feel special." She then turned to me, pointing an accusing finger at my chest. "And what about you? Is that how you think of Millard here?"

I backed away from the hostile girl, afraid her peculiarity would send my sweatshirt to flames. I looked up at Millard, his eyes widening in shock at the idea, though I could have sworn I saw hurt as well. "Of course not, that's crazy! Do you even hear yourself?" My answer sounded more defensive than anything - it was as if I was lying, even though I wasn't. I looked once more at Millard, but he'd turned away.

"I'm afraid you've been mistaken, Mr. Portman," Miss Peregrine finally spoke again. "You may see it as seduction, but this is, truly, how we live. We have not intended to deceive you, but merely retain some more dangerous information, is all."

"Well, here's some information for you," Jacob started and I could tell already that he wasn't about to make things any better. "My grandfather was killed by one of those creatures. It would have been a hell of a lot more helpful to my mental state if I had known that sooner."

Miss Peregrine was silent, unsure of what to say, searching through the flames in the fireplace with her eyes, looking for a response. "I am sorry to hear that," she said at last, but Jacob didn't seem to be quite as finished as I had thought.

"I've seen one of those monsters with my own eyes. Everyone made me feel like I was going crazy. But I wasn't, was I? Neither was my grandpa. He'd only ever told me the truth, but I never believed him. Maybe if I had, he'd still be alive." Jacob was shaking when he finally finished talking. Miss Peregrine shared a look with Millard and me, letting us know it would be best if we left the three alone - well, four, including Miss Avocet. Miss Peregrine offered Jacob a seat, then turned to us once more before we shut the door.

"Feel free to come back in when Miss Bruntley returns," she said, then turned back to the rest of her company.

When Millard and I stepped back into the hall we were bombarded with questions, though we only had an answer for one: the ymbryne inside was Miss Avocet. It was less than helpful to the children, though, so they quickly returned to their prior topic. Not ten minutes later, Bronwyn had returned with the supplies Miss Peregrine had ordered her to fetch. As the Headmistress had requested, Millard and I re-entered the drawing room behind the strong girl.

As soon as she had the brandy and wine, Miss Peregrine sent Bronwyn away and began mixing the two alcohols together in a teacup. Then she headed back over to her old friend and patted her cheek gently.

"Esmerelda, Esmerelda, please, wake up and drink this tonic," she said, her voice calm and inviting, awakening the old ymbryne from her slumber with a moan. Miss Avocet took a meager sip from the teacup, then another and another until it was all gone, coughing between each sip. She looked about ready to settle back down into the chair, but then she suddenly lurched forward with a surprised look on her face, causing me to jump a little at the sudden burst of newfound energy.

"Oh, dear, I've fallen asleep. How immodest of me," she said, her voice croaking with every word. Her surprised eyes looked over each of us as if we hadn't been standing there for the past several minutes, then finally, something must have registered in her brain. "Alma Peregrine, is that you?" she asked, her eyes squinting at her fellow ymbryne. Perhaps she needed glasses.

"Yes, Esmerelda, you've come quite a distance, and in the middle of the night, no less. You've given us all a great frighten," Miss Peregrine responded, a worried tone in her voice as she gripped Miss Avocet's hands tightly in her own.

Miss Avocet's eyes narrowed as if she was trying to remember her flight to our loop. "Dear, me, have I? I must apologi..." she trailed off as her expression darkened, appearing as though she'd come face to face with her worst nightmare. "Of course, I've come with a warning for you, Alma, to be on your guard. I can't let you make my mistake."

"What mistake?" Miss Peregrine asked, growing even more worried. Miss Avocet looked deeply troubled at that point, but she continued explaining the tragedy of her experience regardless.

"Wights," was all she said at first before she took a deep breath and began to elaborate. "Two of them came to our loop as council members. There are no male members, of course, but my wards were just tired enough to forget that fact. It was hardly a minute and yet the wights tied them up and took them away." Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered the event, and I couldn't help but feel immensely sorry for what she'd been through. Miss Peregrine was about to say something, but Miss Avocet continued her story.

"Miss Bunting and I were awoken by their cries, thank goodness, or we would never have found out what had happened. It was merely a trap, though, as we were barricaded inside the house. As soon as we'd unbarred the doors we began following the wights' stench out of the loop. Then the hollows attacked. The children were only the bait. It was terrible, Alma, just terrible."

Miss Peregrine was more worried than ever, and I could have sworn I'd seen tears in her eyes. "Oh, Miss Bunting! Where is she?" At the mention of her partner, Miss Avocet let out a loud sob.

"I managed to escape. She was not quite as fortunate." Even though I'd never met Miss Bunting, the pain in Miss Avocet's voice - even Miss Peregrine's - was enough to get me teary-eyed at the news of her capture. I didn't want to hear anymore, but leaving would be immensely rude, so instead I buried my head into Millard's side. He almost immediately wrapped one arm around me and began stroking my hair with his free hand in a calming way. I could only imagine how he'd feel about this news, though - he'd known these two probably seventy years more than I had.

"Was she killed?" Miss Peregrine asked of Miss Bunting's fate. Miss Avocet - thank god - shook her head.

"No, she was abducted, just as Miss Wren and Miss Treecreeper were a fortnight ago from their perspective loops. Alma, they're aiming to capture ymbrynes. I can't stand to imagine just what they're doing such a terrible thing for," Miss Avocet said, shuddering.

Miss Peregrine's expression suddenly changed from a worried one to a grave one. "They'll be coming for us, too, then." Miss Avocet nodded, then spoke once more.

"You're fortunate to have such a secluded loop entrance, Alma, but still, you and your wards must be ready." At this, Miss Avocet shifted her gaze to the four of us, who hadn't said anything at all since before she'd woken up. She looked confused at the sight of Jacob and me but was probably too exhausted to make the effort of asking who we were. I didn't blame her - there were much more pressing matters at hand. Instead, she looked at her trembling hands in her lap, her eyes sad and dull. "Please, Alma, pray for my children. They have no one now." With that, she finally broke down in tears and turned away, willing none of us to see her cry.

As soon as Miss Peregrine tucked a blanket around her old friend, she ushered us all out of the room, leaving Miss Avocet to mourn in privacy. It didn't take long for us to find the children - mere seconds really, as they were still waiting by the door, anxious for news from Miss Avocet. They must have been eavesdropping, but even through the thick door, they must have heard enough. Olive and Claire both had tears in their eyes.

"Poor Miss Avocet," said Claire in a small, trembling voice.

"Poor Miss Avocet's children," Olive added, huddling into Bronwyn's side, who'd taken my place comforting the girls on the floor.

Horace stepped forward next, asking if the wights would come for us next. This sent the boys - Millard included - into a frenzy of coming up with various weapons they'd need in case of an attack. Miss Peregrine, however, was quick to settle them all down.

"Please, stop all this talk of weapons! We must all stay calm. What happened to Miss Avocet and her wards was immensely tragic, but we need not have the same tragedy repeated here. We must be watchful, though. From this point on, only with permission and a partner will you be allowed beyond the yard. If you happen to come across someone unknown to you, regardless of how peculiar they appear to be, you must come inform me at once. I shall expand on this tomorrow morning. For now, though, I believe we could all do with some sleep. To bed with all of you!"

With some grumbling, the children made their ways to their beds. Millard seemed reluctant to leave me behind, but I shooed him away - I could see the dark circles beginning to appear under his eyes. At last, Miss Peregrine addressed Jacob and me.

"As for you two, I believe it would be best for the both of you to stay. It wouldn't be safe to venture out of the loop - not at this hour with such a threat over our heads. Until things calm down, I feel it would be the best decision." Jake's eyes widened.

"But we can't just... just disappear. People would notice! There have already been animal attacks - people may think we've been added to the body count. And besides, all our stuff-" Miss Peregrine cut him off.

"What do you mean, 'animal attacks'?" she inquired, her tone growing slightly alarmed.

Jacob turned a rosy shade of pink, realizing he probably just gave her another reason why they two of us should stay in the loop. "A couple days ago some sheep were murdered, right inside their pen," he explained, and Miss Peregrine seemed to become immediately more agitated.

"Well, it would be safe at least to stay for the night, then," she said, and it startled me how nervous she sounded. She clearly suspected something was up on our side of the loop. I was about to agree when Jacob spoke again.

"On one condition - " he waited for Miss Peregrine to nod, willing him to go on. "You tell me everything you know about these monsters that murdered my grandfather." Startling me once again, Miss Peregrine seemed more amused than anything at the proposition.

"All right then, Mr. Portman," she then turned to me. "Miss Sanders?"

I shrugged under her gaze, as nervous as I always was when she looked at me. "I was going to stay, anyway. Actually, I'm surprised Jacob objected in the first place." I swear, if the situation at hand hadn't been so grave, she would have chuckled.

"Very well. Mr. Portman, we shall discuss the topic in the morning if that is alright with you. You really should get some sl-" it was Jake's turn to cut off her sentence.

"No. I want to know now. Please. I've waited years for the truth behind everything, and I'm not going to shy away from it now." Miss Peregrine shook her head, the same amused smile on her face.

"Sometimes, my dear boy, you are a mere sliver away from crossing the border between agreeably stubborn and stupidly obstinate." Nonetheless, she turned to leave the hallway, Jacob following after her. Before she turned the corner, Miss Peregrine turned to face me once more. "Will you be joining us, Miss Sanders?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No, no, I'm alright. Jake's right - he's been waiting for ages for this. I'm fine with learning all this in the morning." Miss Peregrine nodded, then gave me directions to a spare room next to Emma's, as there were no extra beds in any of the other girl's bedrooms.

When I woke up the next morning - later than everyone else - they were all surprised to see me make my way into the dining room for breakfast. I, on the other hand, was surprised to not see Jacob among them - I thought he said that after Miss Peregrine told him everything, he would stay the night. She informed me, however, that after she had told him what he wanted to know, he wanted time to think on our side of the loop.

The only empty seat was next to Millard, and even though he was the only one I really wanted to talk to aside from Jacob, I shied away from his attempts at starting a conversation. Was I alright? Yes. How was I feeling? Fine. Why wouldn't I eat more than a slice of toast with jam and a slice of bacon? I'd lost my appetite. After all the excitement of the previous night, nobody remembered that we were going to hang up Millard's newly painted portrait in the front foyer of the house.

Miss Peregrine went over the new security rules she'd thought up during the night, though I hardly paid attention. I left soon after we'd finished breakfast, eager in the most apathetic way to hear about what Jacob had learned from Miss Peregrine. She ordered Millard and Emma to guide me back to the loop, ensuring that nobody would be alone at any time. Emma wasn't as hostile towards me as she'd been before, so I assumed Jacob had clarified the night before that he and I were just friends. In other circumstances, I feel she and I might have even been good friends, which I felt everyone needed at that point, though it was hardly the time for making new friends.

Jacob was asleep when I arrived back at the Priest Hole, but from what I'd heard from Miss Peregrine, he'd had a rough night, so I let him sleep. In the meantime, I grabbed some Advil from my bag - which I'd brought, just in case - and got him a glass of water for when he woke up, then got to reading one of the two books I'd brought with me - Fahrenheit 451 and Catcher in the Rye. I liked reading banned books, because they typically held more meaning than those which weren't. I mean, they were censored from the public for a reason. I just hated the idea of their wasted potential of teaching kids about the real world.

I doubted I would even get around to reading the books at all, but seeing as Miss Peregrine was strict about being careful on both sides of the loop - with good reason, of course - I really had nothing better to do while I waited for Jacob to wake up. That time came in the mid-afternoon, and I had just finished reading the second part of Fahrenheit 451 when Jacob came into my room. He stretched one arm, careful not to spill the glass of water he carried in his other hand. I set my book down.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," I teased, "sleep well?"

"Well enough," Jake grumbled, then sat down on the edge of my bed. "I'm surprised I got any sleep at all." I nodded then looked at the page number I'd just finished, memorizing it for when I picked it up next.

"Are you feeling well enough to tell me what Miss Peregrine told you?" Jake thought for a second, which was understandable, given the gravity of the subject - only a lunatic would want to talk about the thing that killed his grandpa. Thank god for us, though, as neither of us were entirely sane.

Jacob nodded, then slowly began to tell me the information he'd been given. It turned out that Miss Peregrine had a second photo album with darker contents than the one Millard had shown me. Inside, the second photo album held terrifying pictures of men with pure white eyes - the wights Millard had told me about. The very thing Abe Portman had warned me about my elderly 'friend', Carl, back in Circle Village. The very monster Emma had accused Jake and me of being upon our first entry to the loop.

I didn't gain too much new information in terms of how hollowgast became wights - eating the souls of peculiars - Millard had informed me fairly well on that. I did learn, however, how and why they came into existence in the first place - the attempts of the peculiar men who wanted to achieve complete immortality backfired. Then, Jacob dropped the biggest news of all.

"Miss Peregrine thinks there's a hollow, or maybe a wight, already on this island." This came as a shock, but it made sense - it would explain the sheep killings. Jake also told me how, a couple nights ago, he went down for a late snack from the bar and a large man came in and ordered an incredibly raw piece of steak. He was right; all signs pointed to a wight. All we needed was to see the eyes of the large man.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Our next few days on the island were as uneventful as a seniors' bingo game. We'd been there for a week already, and just when I felt like time was speeding up, it slowed back down. Hours felt like days and days felt like weeks. How long would Jake and I have to live like this? We only had two weeks until we left back for Florida, and now Miss Peregrine was asking us for the impossible: stay.

As much as I wanted to stay and live with the peculiar children, I knew I just couldn't. Jake and I had families - real, living, normal families who wouldn't understand if we just up and left. Hell, I had college and a baby brother to think about now, not just my loving - albeit needy- fathers. How was I going to be a big sister with an art major if I never left the island?

Two days after Miss Avocet arrived, my dads called to check in on me and Jacob. I tried my hardest to sound happy, and I must have pulled it off, seeing as they didn't question me. Either that or they knew damn well something was wrong but could tell I didn't want to talk. I didn't - I couldn't. What would I say to them? 'Oh, we found this time loop to the forties and met a bunch of cool people who want us to live with them for all eternity' wouldn't really sit well with them.

Jacob was going through a great deal of shit, too, as he had his own parents to think about. I knew that without a doubt he'd be more affected by this than anyone - these were his grandpa's friends. It was like some sort of legacy or tradition he was being forced to uphold. I just wished there was a way for me to comfort him, but I knew I would do no real good. I knew he wanted to talk to me, but what could either of us say when our situations were so different?

The obvious choice for me was to leave when our two remaining weeks were finished. I knew that if there were two loops there'd have to be more. Perhaps I could skip getting a job after college and look for another loop and try to find some American peculiars. I proposed the idea to Jake, who was less than enthusiastic about the idea. I'm sure in different circumstances he would have been in full support. My peculiarity was a lot easier to live with than Olive's or Millard's - a normal life was within the realm of possibility for me. I knew the same would go for Jake, but his situation was so much more complex.

He was an only child. His parents would flip out if he never returned. But these kids needed him. He was the only one who could see their biggest threat. Seeing ghosts was no big deal, and Millard would probably be more than happy to resume not wearing clothes once I left, but then something dawned on me; if one stayed the other would have to, too. I couldn't leave Jake behind - what would I tell my parents? The same went for him with mine. There was no good outcome for that situation. No matter what, someone's heart would be broken.

Maybe I was just overthinking things. Jake and I had two whole weeks left to decide what we'd do. If luck was on our side, the threat of the hollow over our heads would subside and we would be free to leave. Then I remembered that other ymbrynes were missing. We couldn't just leave all of the peculiars to fear for the life of their precious Headmistress. Even if the hollowgasts and wights left them alone, there was no telling if or when they'd be back. Something didn't feel right about leaving them behind to deal with such a terrible problem. And if Jake and I were to leave the island, who's to say the hollows won't find us and kill us in America? We'd be lucky to make it to twenty-five.

For a brief moment, I thought about Jake and I becoming like peculiar superheroes - the idea actually made me laugh. 'Ghost Girl and Fairy Boy, hunting hollows and saving peculiars across America'. It sounded more like a shitty kids' show than a reality, but it might have been an option, once we helped Miss Peregrine. All I knew was that I was picking between these two different lives, and it was impossible to choose. I wished I could be pulled apart to become two separate entities - the peculiar part of me could stay in the loop, and the normal part could return home.

Of course, life was no picnic for the children, either. Miss Peregrine had turned their bright, beautiful home into a bunkeresque burrow in just a few days. Everyone traveled in pairs - the younger ones always accompanied by someone older - and that was only if Miss Peregrine would let them out of the house. It was hard enough to get outside for some fresh air under her watch - Jacob and I constantly coming and going through the loop nearly caused her a heart attack. Thank god we had each other, or we would have never been able to leave.

The children were more like soldiers than anything at that point, what with Miss Peregrine ordering constant surveillance over the front and back entrances of the house. It was more than common to see the children looking longingly out the windows. Sometimes I would swear to Jake the most exciting parts of their days were when we arrived. Even then, the excitement lasted for only a short amount of time before the dreary mood returned.

Each morning that Jake and I arrived at the house - which was every morning, of course - began with an interrogation. Miss Peregrine would plague us with the same questions, asking if anything odd had happened on our side of the loop or if we'd been followed to the house. It was driving me crazy by the second day, and I could tell I wasn't the only one going off my rocker.

One day after Miss Avocet's arrival, Claire was already causing more trouble than I would have expected. When we all heard a loud yelp coming from the foyer, we weren't surprised to see a small amount of blood rushing down Millard's arm and Claire apologizing profusely. She had bit him, as she wasn't aware he was there. Since I was the only one who could see him, I was in charge of looking after the wound - after he put on pants.

Olive insisted upon crawling around on the ceiling. She caused her own fair amount of mischief, as she would go around dropping peas and grains of rice until we'd notice her. At least she had found a way to entertain herself. That was all anyone could hope to do.

Fiona had lost her will to tend the to garden, much to my disappointment, as one of few things that made me happy was looking out the window at her beautiful creations. They soon began to grow without her influence, and after just two days, the small giraffe she'd made looked more like a llama. Her only comfort anymore was Hugh, whose bees stung everyone but Fiona. I burst out laughing one day when Millard walked into the room with a red spot on the tip of his nose - he was sure a bee had stung him in his sleep. "You're just getting beaten up this week, aren't you?" I asked as I was applying some ointment to it only five minutes later in the upstairs washroom.

"I suppose I am," he replied, a smile on his face. I wiped away a little extra salve from his nose and wiped it on my jean shorts before he grabbed my hand. I looked up, confused at the sudden contact. "Thank you, though. If you hadn't noticed it, I wouldn't have even noticed." I narrowed my eyes a little and tilted my head.

"Well, wouldn't you notice the pain?" I asked. How would he not notice the pain of a bee sting?

Millard chuckled. "To put it simply, no. Remember, I've had to deal with bee stings for nearly eighty years, now. I'm practically immune to the pain they bring, and I'm not allergic to them, either." I shrugged - that made enough sense.

"Well, you're welcome. I'm glad to help. A little part of me has always wanted to be a doctor." I smiled at him, then noticed that his hand was still on mine. Slightly uncomfortable with the situation, I decided to take his hand in mine instead. In seconds he responded by lacing our fingers together. We sat in silence for a moment or so, just looking at each other, until a loud scream erupted in a nearby room. Millard and I stood immediately, recognizing who it was - Horace.

I'd never witnessed one of Horace's visions but I'd seen pictures in Miss Peregrine's photo album, and it was far from pretty. Nonetheless, I was still horrified when I entered the room - Millard's hand still in mine. There was Horace, sitting stiffly and clawing at the air. His eyes were what really spooked me, though - they were still the same pale blue, but they were empty, devoid of emotion, all life previously there sucked away. I dreaded imagining what he was going through. I didn't even notice when Jacob, Emma, Miss Peregrine, and Bronwyn joined us at the doorway.

His long, loud scream ceased, fading into loud cries of boiling seas and the sky falling in flakes of ash. I didn't know how long he went on like that, but I was relieved when it was over. The sleep he fell into, however, looked nothing less than troubled.

Millard finally released my hand and rushed down the hall while Bronwyn headed the other way. They returned only moments later, Millard with a wet cloth for Horace's forehead and Bronwyn with a glass of water. Once that was in order, Miss Peregrine ordered us to carry him to his room - between the four of us with free hands - that is, Miss Peregrine, Jacob, Emma, and myself - it wasn't too hard, though he was heavier than I expected. Perhaps it was all the extra clothes he insisted on wearing - who even wears a top hat every day?

Horace woke up a few hours later as Jake and I were about to leave, though he didn't remember a thing. "That's good news. Dreams he doesn't remember rarely come true," Millard whispered into my ear, and while that nearly set my mind at ease, I was still sure Horace was hiding something.

The next morning, a Wednesday, I headed downstairs an hour later than usual. It turned out a lot could happen in an hour, for the entire bar was in an uproar. Martin had failed to open the museum at eight'o'clock like he usually did. Kev's wife went to check up on him, only to find his door dangling from the hinges and his glasses and wallet on the counter. However, he wasn't home. That got me worrying. A day later, shortly after some men began searching for him, someone called in: Martin was dead in the water - literally. He'd been caught in a fishing net just that morning. Oddly enough, I cried.

I went back upstairs to read, my appetite was long gone and my will to see or speak to anyone had disappeared. Jacob came in a little after one in the afternoon with a grilled cheese sandwich, a glass of water, and news from the man who found Martin. He was wearing only his pajamas when he was reeled in by some fisherman who, innocently enough, thought he'd got his fishing nets stuck in a crab trap. That wasn't the strangest part, though.

"They said he was by the cliffs when he fell into the ocean," Jake started. "One guy pointed out that he may have been chasing the guy who killed the sheep. Another mentioned that it may have been the new man on the island - y'know, the one who ordered the raw meat a few nights ago?" I nodded, letting him know I remembered. "Well, one of the guys ran into the new guy a couple nights ago, and you know the most suspicious part? He was wearing sunglasses."

"But wasn't it at night?" I questioned. Jacob confirmed it with a nod. "Do you think he could be the wight?" I asked another question. He nodded again. My stomach dropped and flipped inside out and I felt like I was going to throw up. Outside, thunder rumbled. The weather didn't seem to like the new development much either.

"D'you know where 'is body's bein' kept?" I heard as I made my way down the stairs the next day. A man was sitting at the bar, talking with Kev. Jake was already eating scrambled eggs, a second plate set across from him for me. I sat, giving him a small smile as a 'thank you' for ordering me breakfast. It was just the four of us.

"The fishmonger's got 'im in an ice case in th' back of 'is shop," Kev replied, wiping the inside of a glass mug before setting it down. "Now, what can I get ya?" I tuned out the rest of the conversation.

"What's going on?" I asked Jake, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip, wincing at the bitter flavor.

Jacob chuckled a little before responding. "The whole town's on lockdown, what with Martin's death, and now the storm rolling in." I nodded, shoveling a fork full of eggs into my mouth.

"Like the house?" I asked in a hushed voice when I finished chewing, even though I knew the answer. Jake nodded. We finished eating in silence. When we left the Priest Hole, Kev had a look of worry on his face, but he didn't say anything. It was best that way.

The walk to the cairn was cold, wet, and windy - I wouldn't be all too surprised if I had another fever the next day. A chilly rain was beginning to sprinkle by the time we got to the loop, and I sneezed almost as soon as we were out. I didn't turn back, though. They would be worried if I didn't show up with Jake, and it was dangerous to go back alone.

"What's the matter?" Miss Peregrine asked us as soon as we'd entered the house. Oddly enough, I was still cold, despite the always-sunny weather of 1940's Cairnholm. Jacob began explaining what happened over the past two days but stopped halfway through. I was confused as to why, but he placed a shaking hand on my shoulder. Except it wasn't his hand that was shaking, but me.

"Kallie, are you cold?" he asked, and even though I shook my head - an obvious lie - Miss Peregrine removed her shawl from her shoulders and wrapped it around me. I replied with a quick 'thanks' before Jacob finished explaining what had happened. When he did, Miss Peregrine hurried us into the sitting room and sat me down on the loveseat before she called for the other children. As soon as Emma arrived she rushed to Jake, who was standing by my side, rubbing my back. There was a sympathetic gleam in her eyes, one that made up for her silence.

Millard, upon entering the room, almost immediately sat beside me. "Are you all right?" he asked, glancing up at Jake and Emma for clarification.

"No, my left side works fine, too," I replied, tired and chilled to the bone but still wanting to make light of the subject. Millard only shook his head and a small smile graced his features as he took my hand in his. That was all I really needed right then. I didn't understand why I was so affected by the shitty weather, I didn't understand anything about the hollowgast situation anymore, and I certainly didn't understand what the hell was going on between Millard and me. I did, however, understand the way our hands didn't quite fit - mine were too small, and his were too large, and that was what made all the difference. I felt like, in that moment, he was grounding me - he was the only thing that made complete sense, except that he was invisible to everyone but me.

"What's got her so upset?" Millard asked, looking back up at Jacob. I did too and nodded toward the ground in front of the loveseat, implying that what we were going to say next was for Millard's and Emma's ears only. As soon as we were all as close as comfort would allow, Jacob and I told them about Martin's death. Millard breathed in sharply and Emma looked profusely troubled, which definitely did not put my mind at ease.

"What, is this whole thing that bad? I mean, I thought hollows only hunted peculiars," I pointed out, but it seems what I had initially thought was wrong.

Emma frowned and looked at Millard, his sweater letting her know where his face would be. "Would you like to do the honors?" she asked. Millard sighed before he began speaking.

"While hollows do enjoy eating peculiars much more than anything else, they do eat common people. They'll eat anything, so long as it's meat - preferably raw." My stomach dropped - that essentially confirmed the theory that the new man on the island was a wight looking to sustain his hollow.

"It's a good way to tell if there's a hollow nearby. The body count rises then stops. They've developed to become very nomadic creatures - they'll get caught if they stay in one place too long," Emma added, which didn't necessarily set my mind at ease - how many serial killers were just wights collecting food for their hollows?

I turned to Millard, expecting him to know the answer to my next question, what with the extensive knowledge he seemed to have on many different subjects. "How often would they need to eat?" Millard seemed a little surprised but answered nonetheless.

"Well, hollows must eat fairly often. Wights spend most days preparing the hollow's meals. They're on the constant lookout for peculiars, however usually the best they can settle for is an average person, and in most cases, animals. Then, when the hollow is finished eating, the wight must clean up the mess. Hollows are uncivilized enough without the added factor of their dietary needs." Oddly enough, the words seemed as if they were meant to come out of Millard's mouth, and did so so fittingly that I nearly felt at peace learning such gruesome details. I wouldn't have minded if he had just informed me I had cancer. Hell, if he were to ask to kill me in that tone, I'd let him.

"Wouldn't the wights get caught, y'know, since they're murdering people and all?" Jacob asked, bringing me back to my previous thought about how wights would make great serial killers.

"Oh, there have been some," answered Emma. "I don't doubt you may have heard of a few. In your time, not too long ago, a man was found with human heads in his ice box and insides cooking in a gruesome stew."

I remembered back to when I was fourteen at this description - I had had the strangest obsession with serial killers. Not that I wanted to be one, of course, but reading about them and their motives and such was fascinating to me, and I'd insisted to my dads that I wanted to be a detective. Emma's description reminded me of one that had me gagging at how grossly cannibalistic it was. "Jeffrey Dahmer," I said. "A gay necrophiliac and a cannibal. Though I suppose since he wasn't exactly human, he doesn't fit the definition." They all give me odd looks before I explained my previous fascination with such cases as Dahmer's.

"Yes, it was he," Millard replied, filling in the silence between the four of us before it grew awkward. "Even though it had been years since he'd transitioned from hollowgast to wight, he never lost his affinity for fresh meat. Shame about his lifestyle, though." Instantly, I grew defensive and let go of his hand."

"What, are you homophobic?" I asked, growing angry. Things were going so well - I knew there had to be a catch - aside from his invisibility, I supposed. Millard's eyes widened at my sudden mood change, but I supposed he understood that I was tired and on edge - we all were.

"Well, no, I'm not. I don't think any of us are. We may be stuck in 1940, but the Headmistress encourages us to be accepting of all unorthodox things. We have no right to judge them, as we ourselves have been so wrongly judged. I was merely referring to his necrophilic tendencies," Millard replied.

I didn't smile and I didn't take his hand again, but I did nod. "Good, because I just so happen to have two dads. On the other hand, I thought you weren't allowed to know about the future, so how would you know about Dahmer?"

Emma was the one to respond that time. "She keeps all the good bits to herself and tells us all the rubbish parts," she explained. "It's to keep us from wanting to leave." I felt suddenly very sad for the children. I could hardly imagine only knowing the bad parts about the future. It was a terrible prospect, but I bet it would be worse if I were to actually experience it. It was like reverse censorship - one was withholding 'bad' information to 'protect' the people, and the other was withholding 'good' information to 'protect' the peculiars. Both were shitty things to do, but Miss Peregrine actually had a very valid reason - if the kids knew the good things, they'd want to leave. If they left, they would shrivel up and die.

Our conversation did not progress any further, as Miss Peregrine entered with Enoch and Horace following closely behind, sulking. Everyone set all their attention on the Headmistress.

"I have just received news of a new threat," she began, her eyes resting on first Jacob, then me, before continuing. "Due to unknown circumstances, a man on the other side of the loop is dead. We cannot be sure if this is a threat to us or not, but it's safe to be prepared as if it is. From this point forward, nobody is leaving this house unless I say so."

I immediately stood up from the loveseat - my chill long forgotten - as the children groaned. "What? You can't-" Another stern glance from Miss Peregrine shut me up.

"Times have been hard for all of us. I ask your forgiveness for such a long wait," she continued. Even though hands reaching to the ceiling were evidence of many questions, Miss Peregrine ignored her charges and instead left the room to secure the front and back doors. Jacob got up and ran after her; I followed close behind.

"Miss Peregrine!" Jacob called, stopping the Headmistress in her tracks and making her turn around. "Listen, you can't make us stay. We have to go back!" he said.

Before Miss Peregrine replied, she ushered us into an empty room and turned to us, a large frown on her face. "You must remain quiet, and respect these new regulations. Nobody leaves the house," she restated. "Including the two of you."

"You don't-" I began to object but she rose a finger, startling me into silence.

"I have been very kind in letting you two come and go whenever you want, as your situation is quite compromising. However, I can't run the risk of you being followed - my wards' lives are in danger, as are yours." Miss Peregrine set her jaw as she finally finished speaking, allowing for either Jacob or me to speak for ourselves at last

"Miss Peregrine," Jake started, "you need to understand: boats aren't running, everyone out there is stuck on that island. If this is a wight we're all worried about, well..." he trailed off, not able to think of the right thing to say. I, however, knew what might have swayed her judgment.

"Martin won't be the only victim. The whole town will be wiped out by the time Jake and I have to head back to Florida. We can't just hide - we have to do something."

Miss Peregrine swallowed but showed no emotion. "The townsfolk and their affairs are of no matter to me. I will not let you endanger my wards." I felt a ball of rage building up in my chest and balled my fists. I would not lash out. Not in front of Miss Peregrine.

"Just because they don't matter to you doesn't mean they don't matter to me. They are real innocent people. Their lives deserved to be saved just as much as ours do. Their deaths are not going to be on my hands. I won't be able to live with myself if I just sit by and do nothing to help." Miss Peregrine blinked.

"I admire your passion, Miss Sanders, but your stubbornness will be the end of you, I can tell you that much. If leaving is what you wish to do, so be it, but you are not welcome back. The same goes for you, Mr. Portman. Think wisely about your next move."

Jacob looked startled and hurt. "I'm only staying if Kallie does," he said, and I truly felt so intensely bad for him that I wanted to lock him in the bathroom and leave without him.

"Then I'm sorry to see you go," Miss Peregrine replied stiffly, but none of us moved. I turned to Jake, who was still next to me.

"Jake, don't make a decision you're going to regret," I told him, a look of desperation in my eyes. I knew he needed to come with me - it would practically be suicide to go walking back alone, and he was the only one who could see the damn monsters in the first place. Jacob staying would only be welcoming death upon the town.

Jacob straightened his posture and balled his fists - I had released the tension in my own hands when he said he would only stay if I did. "You need me," he said to Miss Peregrine, which was not what I expected.

"Indeed, we do," Miss Peregrine replied. "Very much so."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

I kept telling myself that I only stayed because I didn't want to catch a fever. I knew that wasn't the only reason why, though. Jacob had to stay, which practically guilt tripped me into staying. He was the only connection between their world and ours, through Abe's bloodline.

After the confrontation, Miss Peregrine sent Jake off to see the children then offered to prepare me some tea to calm down. Of course, I burnt my tongue as I took my first sip, as I had had only a few experiences with tea and had no idea how long to wait before it was the right temperature. Burning my tongue on Miss Peregrine's chamomile tea, however, was a much better experience than Kev's too bitter coffee.

It wasn't until after dinnertime that I finally moved from the kitchen. I had fallen asleep for about an hour in between Miss Peregrine's departure from the room and dinner, and by the time I'd woken up - fifteen minutes before dinner was served, my tea was cold. I was fine with it, though - at least it would sooth my aching tongue. Millard seemed to have made a habit of sitting next to me, and I was in no place to object. I was surprised I was receiving any hospitality at all after my outburst. I was immensely grateful, to say the least.

After dinner, Millard asked me to join him in the study, where I'd painted his portrait. Instead, I suggested the small spare room with the piano in it, as I was hoping to lighten the somber mood with some half-assed piano playing. As I expected, he didn't object. We walked there in silence, though somewhere along the way our hands managed to bump and tangle themselves together - not that either of us minded.

As soon as we arrived, I nearly ran to the piano, then sat down and ran my fingers over the perfect ivory keys. Millard chuckled a little at my enthusiasm, but I didn't care. I rather loved the piano - I'd always had a fascination with them, and the music they produced was always so beautiful - well, except if the person playing was a shitty pianist. Without any more delay, I began playing.

"You may remember this one," I said as I played the first few notes, simple as they were. Millard's eyes brightened immediately as he recognized the tune, and he began to sing.

"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run run. Bang, bang, bang goes the farmer's gun. He'll get by without his rabbit pie so run rabbit, run rabbit, run!" We both laughed as I plunked out the last few notes, ending the song. He leaned against the piano, just near enough that we both could have spoken in whispers and heard each other fine.

"You've got a great voice," I commented. "If only you knew the rest of the songs I can play."

Millard smiled and looked down, perhaps because he might have been uncomfortable with the praise. "Thank you, Kallie, though I'd much rather express my talent of writing. I find my voice quite sub-par, actually." At his words, my eyes widened.

"Are you kidding me? You're better than me, that's no doubt. I mean, you're better than half the singers in my time. Though I suppose I'm biased, 'cause I only really like classic rock, and I happen to really like-" I cut myself off, realizing what I was about to say.

"You happen to really like what?" Millard inquired, and I was sure he knew what I was really going to say - I really like him.

There was no denying the fact that lately, I'd been feeling something other than general likeness for him. I had gotten defensive whenever anyone mentioned us being more than friends; like when Olive and Claire were teasing me, or when Jacob commented on our squabble about my foul mouth. Maybe I wanted to avoid those feelings?

Well of course I did! The guy was basically seventy years older than me, so, of course, I was going to try not to feel anything like that for him. But it was so damn hard. His passion about his book and his thirst for knowledge were things I wasn't usually attracted to, but those traits were admirable in him, to say the least. Not to mention his charming tone and pleasing aesthetics. I knew there was a lot he could teach me, and I was always open to learning - learning was fun when I didn't have a mandatory test every week. I suppose I really did like him...

I shook my head, trying to dismiss the conversation. "Never mind, it's stupid. Now, where was I?" With that, I launched into a sloppy rendition of Victor's Piano Solo from 'Corpse Bride'. I'd hardly played ten notes before Millard placed a hand over mine and sat down next to me, cutting me off. I was slightly uncomfortable at the sudden closeness between us and my mouth grew suddenly dry. I licked my lips nervously.

"You really like what?" he asked again, this time with much more intensity in his voice than before. I looked into his eyes - gleaming and golden-brown, like sunlight shining through a glass of whiskey.

"You," I whispered, finally looking away. He lifted his hand off mine and instead held my cheek, lifting my head to meet his gaze once more. He didn't say anything. Instead, our faces were drifting slowly closer. Just when I could feel the presence of his lips in front of mine, someone coughed.

We turned immediately to face Emma, Jake standing awkwardly behind her. A light pink blush rushed up my neck and flooded onto my cheeks. Emma had a smirk on her face and her arms were crossed over her chest. "Are we interrupting something?" she asked. Millard and I both shook our heads, though she really was. "Well, this is your last chance, Mill. Are you coming or not?"

"I've already told you, I will take no part in this. You know it's against the rules - I'm not going to risk the chance of death," he replied, leading me to very confused. What the hell were they talking about?

"Well, then, it's your loss," she replied, uncrossing her arms. "Carry on." She and Jacob took off down the hall.

"I really don't think it is!" Millard shouted after them in response before turning back to me. "I must apologize, I wasn't expecting that at all. I wasn't really expecting any of this, actually."

I smiled, then looking around the room, as I'd nearly forgotten where we were. "The same goes for me. What was that about, anyway?" Millard swallowed, which made me grow nervous immediately. This time, however, it was more of a 'what-the-hell-is-going-on' nervous than an 'I'm-embarrassed-that-you'll-hate-me-forever-if-I-tell-you-I-like-you' nervous.

"Emma, Jacob, Enoch, and Bronwyn are all sneaking out to speak with the dead bloke on your side of the loop. We all think he was murdered by a hollow, that's no surprise, but they want to find out first hand." I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Well, that seems kind of dumb. How would they do that without me? I'm the one who can actually speak to his ghost," I pointed out. It was Millard's turn to be confused.

"Don't you know that Enoch can bring things back to life?" I thought back to the show they all put on and recalled Enoch bringing to life a clay man by inserting a mouse heart into it.

My eyes lit up as I remembered. "Oh, yeah! Duh, how could I forget?"

"I knew you would remember," Millard replied. When I looked at his face, I was expecting a smug smile, but instead, it was warm and proud - not in a rude sense, but the way a teacher does when a student got their fifth A in a row. I smiled right back.

"Alright, well, I understand now." I sat silently for a minute, then frowned as I realized something else. "It kind of hurts, though, that they didn't ask me to come along. I suppose this plan was created while I was in the kitchen calming down?" Now Millard nodded, and I grimaced a little.

"If it hurts, I suppose I could kiss it better," Millard said out of nowhere.

My immediate reaction came in the form of laughter. "I would never expect a pick-up line that smooth coming from you," I said, a wide smile on my face. It was reflected on his, though I wasn't very surprised.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, throwing in a wink for good measure. My nod was slightly subdued as I leaned forward, at last meeting his lips with mine. There were no fireworks - as that was very unrealistic - but there was a loud boom, which immediately made us part; the first bomb of the night had just fallen. We shared a look and laughed, but as Millard leaned back in I leaned away, winking coyly before I began playing Victor's Piano Solo again. He pouted but let me, listening intently and clapping when it was over.

We continued on like that - me playing and him listening - until another boom sounded - one that wasn't a bomb. I immediately stopped playing and stood up, Millard following my lead as we made our way through the hallways to the front of the house. I stopped him at the corner before we entered the foyer and peeked around the corner to see the large man standing there. He had a gun in one hand, the other clamped tightly over Claire's mouth. Everyone else was there, shocked into silence as he raised the gun to Claire's head. I turned back around the corner.

"Millard, it's terrible, the guy who we think killed Martin's here. He's got a gun and he's gonna shoot Claire," I explained in the quietest whisper I could manage in my panicked state. "There's a cage on the floor next to him, I think he's going to take Miss Peregrine and Miss Avocet! Thank god she's taking a rest right now..." I trailed off when I realized Millard was removing his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, Kallie, but our only hope of getting out alive is if I can follow him. I can't do that by being modest. Now, hurry, get out there and stop him." I nodded and was about to step into the foyer when I realized something. I turned on my heel and kissed him.

"Just in case I never see you again," I murmured, then turned and stepped into the large man's line of view. "Stop!" I cried, just as Claire's backmouth bit his arm and he let her go. In a flash, he changed his aim and fired in my direction.

White hot pain rushed through my arm as the bullet grazed by, but the slight click it made as it fell to the ground let me knew that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I crumpled to my knees, grasping my left arm. The feeling of warm blood dripping through my fingers was unsettling, but I knew I couldn't back down. Hugh let out a cry, and at first, I thought it was for me, but I looked up to see that he was the man's next hostage. He tried fighting, but the man - I guess it was safe to assume he was a wight - knocked him in the head with his gun, rendering Hugh unconscious.

Fiona was the first to let out a loud cry, and I felt Millard rest a hand on my back. I looked at his face and smiled weakly before he helped me up. Thank god the wight had other preoccupations, or he would have been able to tell there was one more person in the room. I stumbled forward, Millard as my guide, though he stepped back as soon as Miss Peregrine and Miss Avocet raced down the stairs.

Everything was hazy, and more pain seared through my scalp as the man grabbed my hair and pulled, bringing me over to the basement. I noticed that everyone else was already gathering on the stairs, scared into submission. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the wight's face smiling down at me - a smile I remembered from somewhere. Of course - it was my 'old friend', Carl.

I awoke in a dimly lit setting, my left upper-arm throbbing. I looked at it to see that my blood-stained sweater sleeve had been ripped off and was now binding the wound. "She's awake!" a little girl - Olive - cried out, alerting the others of my newly redeemed consciousness. I was greeted with cries of relief from the others, which were hardly coherent in my still foggy brain. My situation was worsened when a bright light came from above.

"That's it, I'm going to heaven," I murmured, but Hugh - conscious again as well - let out a breathy laugh of relief.

"It ain't heaven, but there sure are angels!" My eyes finally focused, so I looked up to see our saviors. There stood Enoch and Bronwyn, covered in mud and blood, though I was almost positive that wasn't because of gunshots.

The next ten minutes were still blurry, as I was still suffering from blood loss, but the others took the liberty of explaining what had happened. Bronwyn had just begun to explain what was happening when something clicked in my mind. "Millard! Where's Millard?" I asked, suddenly alert. Was he okay? Had he managed to follow the wight?

"I... I don't know, perhaps he escaped and followed the wight?" Claire suggested, and I swear I could have hugged her.

"That little bugger..." I muttered, a small smile growing on my face. Before long, we had made our way to the harbor, where Hugh suspected the wight would have gone. After all, it was the only way to get off the island, which is what we all assumed he would want to do, now that he had the birds. What he wanted them for, however, was still a mystery.

I almost cried when I saw Millard pacing at the treeline. I started to run, stumbling in my slightly-dizzy state; I was still losing blood. He noticed the group of us as soon as he turned around to begin pacing again. I didn't even care that he was still naked - as soon as he was in reach, I hugged him. "I'm so glad you're alright, Kallie," he murmured in my ear as he held me - if he hadn't been there to steady me, I might have fainted again after all that running. "He took Emma's boat, and he's going in circles," he said, louder, and I noticed that everyone else had finally caught up.

Enoch had a smirk on his face and I realized how stupid I must have looked hugging what would appear to them as nothing. I handed Millard his clothes, though he only tied his shirt around his waist, hiding only what needed to be hidden most. "What, is he waiting for something?" Horace asked, still looking upset about the fact that we had been held captive. We watched as the wight - I refused to refer to him by his real name unless it was necessary - pulled the boat onto the rocks by the lighthouse - clearly, the waves had grown too rough for him.

"I think so, he was muttering something about 'hoping they were still here'. I shudder to imagine who 'they' are," Millard replied, sniffing once as a display of distaste. "Where are Emma and Jacob?"

Bronwyn gasped. "We've forgotten about them! We gotta go find them!" she cried, keeping her voice down for fear of the wight hearing her. However, due to the rising tides and falling bombs, I highly doubted that was possible. Before long, she, Enoch, and Hugh had left to go find our wayward friends.

In the meantime, as it didn't seem right to plan anything without five of our number, we decided to move closer to where the wight had stolen Emma's boat and cast off. We all huddled behind a large clump of grass as we waited, and Millard decided to check on my bullet wound while I explained that I knew the wight. Of course Carl had 'noticed' something about me that was similar to Abe - he knew we were both peculiar. I could bet my life that he killed Abe himself, or at least set a hollow on him.

My wound was still oozing blood when he removed the makeshift bandage, making my nauseous, but the bleeding had also gone down significantly. It hadn't made a hole - it merely grazed a sliver of the outer circumference of my upper arm. Any father over and it might have formed a hole or gotten lodged in my bone - or splintered it. Millard wiped more blood away from the wound and re-wrapped my sweater around it, willing it to start to seal up.

We looked back out over the water to see the wight - I refused to refer to him as Carl - where he had been before - on the rocks by the lighthouse. Not even five minutes later, the search party came back, Emma and Jake in tow. They made their way over to us and kept their heads low, careful to not be seen by the wight. We had the whole group - save for Miss Peregrine and Miss Avocet. Now all we needed was a plan to take that goddamn wight down.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

"What is he waiting for?" Emma asked impatiently. I glared at her, tired and cranky from all my blood loss. She asked it like we knew!

"Well, how are we to know?" I snapped. Millard rested a hand on my arm, calming me down a little. "We can only guess." the hostile tone in my voice had left. My last word was stifled by a yawn.

Millard spoke next, expressing the ideas we all had thought of earlier. "Perhaps he's waiting to be picked up by colleagues. Or maybe he's waiting for the tide to go down so that he can row away."

"In my boat? Are you daft?" Millard sniffed, upset at Emma's insult, but before he could say anything else, three bombs dropped elsewhere on the island.

"Millard, do any bombs fall in this area?" Jacob asked, which drove me to hope that Golan would get hit by one. Then I remembered that he had the two ymbrynes with him, and Golan getting bombed would mean the birds would get bombed, too.

Millard furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. "My studies were merely behavioral. Bombs were not on the list of subjects. Sorry," he replied. Enoch scoffed.

"Wonderful, thanks for all the help, Mill," he sneered; I swear I could have punched him.

"Well, at least he's done some good. We wouldn't have found the wight if Millard hadn't followed him." Enoch rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You're only defending him because you like him. And you're one to talk! All you've done so far is get shot." My urge to punch him only grew stronger, but Millard took my hand and squeezed it, calming me down once more. All I wanted was some goddamn sleep.

Jacob spoke up, ending the conversation. "Em, do you have any more boats laying around anywhere?" She shook her head.

"No, so it looks like we'll have to swim across," she replied.

"And risk getting shot to bits?' Millard objected. He made a good point, but what other chance would we be getting?

Emma smiled halfheartedly. "We'll come up with a better plan when we're out there," she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. Millard took his hand from my arm as he crossed his over his chest.

"Improvised suicide, what a lovely idea," he muttered. "Are there any better ideas?" Aside from Enoch, who proposed that his clay soldiers could help - which made no sense, as they'd be ruined by the water - we all had to agree that swimming was our only way of stopping the wight from getting away with the two ymbrynes

"It's decided, then. Who's coming?" Emma asked. Jacob raised his hand immediately - to no one's surprise, as this was his ex-therapist - and so did Bronwyn.

"It's best if I go - he won't see me coming," Millard said, not bothering to raise his hand as I was the only one who would see him do it.

I faced him immediately, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it. "Be careful. I can't swim very well and I'm the only one who can see you, so don't go getting hurt out there," I said, then turned to Jacob. "That goes for you too, mister. You're my best friend - I can't lose you." Jake nodded, a solemn smile on his face, though it looked more like a grimace. I knew the changes of nobody getting hurt out there were slim to none, but I had to have something I usually didn't - hope. I had always been one to give up when things looked hopeless, but I was finally ready to change that.

"Well, four will be enough," Emma decided. "I hope you all can swim." With that, they set off down the beach, leaving no time for goodbyes except for a single kiss to my forehead from Millard and a quick hug from Jake. As soon as they reached the water, a fighter plane flew overhead. I was half expecting it to drop a bomb and take my best friends away from me, but nothing happened, to everyone's relief.

The rest of us watched as Jacob, Emma, Millard, and Bronwyn all made their way through the water towards the lighthouse until they were pretty far out and another plane flew over. Claire and Olive both whimpered, and I crawled over and sat between them as Bronwyn had been earlier, wrapping a comforting arm around each of them. "They'll be alright," I murmured, "it'll all be alright, don't worry." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince the girls of that or myself.

The full moon illuminated the scene for us as the group of four made it to the shipwreck Jacob and Emma had made out on just half a week before. It started me to think that so little time had passed since Jake and I arrived on the island. They stopped - to plan, we all assumed. The distance between us made them look tiny. Suddenly, a small crack sounded through all the commotion, sounding distant but not like the bombs going off on the island. Golan was shooting his gun - he had seen them.

I grew immediately more nervous, which I thought would have been impossible. After another moment, one of the party of four began walking forward - even from the distance, I could tell it was Millard. Jake's hair wasn't that light, and even I knew their best shot was sending him out - he was invisible, after all.

We all watched in horror as Golan knelt down and took aim. Time seemed to slow down as he fired the gun, and despite the distance and growing darkness, we all watched as a violent crimson red erupted into our vision; Millard had been shot.

My first instinct was to scream - as he had when the bullet ripped through his skin - but I didn't. Instead, I stood up and - without thinking about what I was doing - kicked off my flip-flops and raced down to the water's edge. I pulled off my sweater, as it would only drag me down, and flung it across the beach. As I waded into the water, I finally grew aware of the other children calling for me - 'Kallie! What the bloody hell are you doing?' - but I dismissed them and dove under.

God, what was I thinking? I could hardly swim in shallow water, let alone tread through deep water as I was then. The sweater sleeve still binding the wound on my arm was beginning to affect my pace, however, so I ripped it off and left it behind me in the water. Millard needed medical attention, and I was the only one who was fully capable of providing it to him.

I wasn't sure when they noticed me, but before I knew what was happening, I felt two strong hands grab my wrist and I no longer had to swim - Bronwyn was bringing me to where the others were waiting. As we neared, I saw that Jake's cheeks were wet, and not just because he had been underwater. I felt a presence under me and instinctively put my feet down, only to be met with the shipwreck. Jake ran toward me and pulled me into a hug, and I was just strong enough to hug him back weakly.

"God, Kallie, you're so stupid," he said, but I pushed him away and stumbled toward Millard, shaking my head.

"No. No, he's hurt and I'm the only one who can see him. I've got to help," I said, not really directing my explanation to anyone as I knelt as Millard's side. "I'm going to help," I told him before pulling off my shirt and began soaking up the blood with it, not paying attention to the fact that he was still buck naked. As I kept pressure on his wound, I looked up at the other three - Jake was clearly worried, Bronwyn was watching Golan as he reloaded his gun, and Emma looked like she wanted to kill me for being so stupid, though I didn't blame her.

A bullet suddenly whizzed by my nose, and splashes sounded around us, alerting us that the wight had reloaded. "Dive!" Emma shouted suddenly and began running toward a dark hole in the hull - a door! Bronwyn helped me lift Millard and we ran after Emma and Jake through the rain of bullets.

"Millard, hon', you're going to have to hold your breath," I said, trying to sound calm and soothing as we came to the cargo hold and began our descent. He complied, thank god, and as soon as we were all underwater Emma began passing around a tube that would allow us to take in small amounts of air at a time. Even though it came by every ten seconds and I had a fairly large lung capacity - I could hold my breath for forty seconds - the occasional breath of air was not enough to sustain me. Each time I opened my mouth for a breath, a little bit of water came in too, tasting slightly of blood.

Emma poked me, letting me know that we would be heading back up. I left Millard reluctantly, but he held my shirt to his wound with one hand and the breathing tube with the other. Only our heads broke the water, allowing us to breathe and talk.

"Millard will bleed himself dry if we stay here," I said after taking a deep breath and aiding my lungs.

"It'll take forever for him to get back to the shore. God, I'm surprised you made it here in such a short time, Kallie. I thought you couldn't swim?" Jake pointed out. I shrugged.

"I can, just not very well. Besides, desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess," I replied. "You're right, though. Our only hope is getting him to the lighthouse, which is impossible with Golan there."

A sudden light came to Bronwyn's eyes as I said that. "Maybe not," she said mysteriously before diving down again. We watched her, though my eyes strayed and I noticed Millard watching some curiously glowing fish. I was transfixed by the peculiar glowing fish myself until I felt the hull vibrate and heard the subdued sound of about twenty cats screeching. Bronwyn resurfaced soon after the vibrating stopped, carrying the door of the cargo hold with her.

"And what, exactly, are you planning on doing with that?" Emma asked. Bronwyn smiled, then held up the door as a bullet come towards her head. Unsurprisingly, it bounced right off the hard metal.

"Go to the lighthouse," she replied, to which Emma cried out happily.

"That's genius!" she exclaimed, remaining at a level of quiet where she wouldn't draw too much attention to us.

Bronwyn smiled proudly before explaining what we'd do. "Millard will ride on my back. Kallie, you look after him, and you two can make sure neither fall behind," she explained. We all nodded, and I dove under to fetch Millard.

I dragged him upwards, my hands gripping under his arms until both our heads broke the water once more. Upon resurfacing, Millard spoke. "Emma, you never told me there were angels down there," he said as if he'd just been woken from a wonderful fantasy. My eyes widened - there was no way I was letting him envision angels just yet.

"What are you talking about, Mill?' she replied, just as confused as everyone else.

"The little green angels who live underwater. They were so kind - they offered to take me to heaven." At his words, I began patting his cheek, trying to wake him from his dreamlike state.

"No, you're not going to heaven just yet. I won't let you, alright? Come on," with that, he let me pull him through the water towards Bronwyn. I ensured that he was holding onto her before taking up the space behind him. For the first time, I noticed that his back was unscathed. That both comforted and worried me - the bullet was still somewhere inside him, but if it weren't, he'd be bleeding twice as much.

We made our way to the lighthouse, and with every step, we became a bigger target for Golan to shoot. The door provided a force field for us, though, which was comforting - for now. Not wanting to worry about anything else, I counted the shots as they came, quickly going from one to seven to twelve to - silence. I could only hope that Golan had run out of bullets, though I knew those chances weren't high.

My heart lurched when I suddenly felt the hull of the shipwreck disappear from under me. Emma gripped tightly to my shoulders, keeping me up until I got into the rhythm of kicking my legs back and forth until I could stay afloat. As soon as I let go of Millard, I began paddling with my hands, hoping to god that his grip around Bronwyn's neck wouldn't slip. My concentration was quickly broken when Emma whispered into my ear, causing me to flinch.

"Kallie, talk to Millard so he doesn't go unconscious," she said, though it was nearly lost with the noises of the surging sea surrounding us. I nodded.

"Right," I muttered under my breath. "Millard, what's your favorite color?" I asked, deciding in an instant that if we were to die and never see each other again, I'd at least like to know a bit about him.

"Lord, I don't know, green?" he replied, probably confused about why I was asking such a silly question during such a harrowing time.

"Alright, mine's red," I told him, even though I knew he'd probably be more focused on not bleeding his life away than remembering something so insignificant. "What's your favorite food?"

"I can't choose," he said. "Mashed potatoes?"

"Great! I prefer baked potatoes, but mashed is good! How about your favorite animal?"

"Kallie, darling, I love you, but will you please shut up?"

As much as I didn't want to stop talking, what he said shocked me into silence. He couldn't seriously love me. Not after a week and a half. Perhaps I was overanalyzing things - he was losing a lot of blood, after all. And there was a vast difference between 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you', one of which can be said to close friends and the other of which is said in a serious relationship. What Millard and I had was hardly serious.

By the time I shook my scrutinizing thoughts, we were at the lighthouse. Bronwyn adjusted her grip on the makeshift shield as she clambered onto the rocks, and in that time, Golan managed to throw her off balance with a few more shots. We all shrank back a bit when she nearly fell over - we would have all been done for if she'd fallen onto us. In a split-second, I used my hands as a support for her, and with what was left of my might, I pushed her back onto the rocks. We collectively breathed a sigh of relief as Bronwyn stabilized herself on the rocks, still clutching tightly to the door. We followed quickly.

Finally, on the rocks surrounding the lighthouse, I could take in my surroundings through the porthole of the door, and what little I could see beside me. The lighthouse and the surrounding area was like an island in itself. And there, at the center of it, stood Golan, standing in the doorway of the lighthouse with his gun in one hand and the cage with the ymbrynes in the other. The firing of his pistol made me flinch, and I felt myself instinctively curl my shoulders in to make myself smaller.

"If you come any closer they're both dead," came Golan's shout above the noise of the sea behind us and bombs around us.

"He's lying," Jacob said to us, just loud enough that our party of five could hear him. "He needs them."

I felt Emma turn behind me. "You can't be sure of that, he's mad. Maybe he just wants to kill us all."

"Way to stay positive, Em," I snapped, supporting Millard all the while as he slumped against me, his strength seeping out of him at the same rate as his blood. "We can't just stay here." I dared a glimpse over my shoulder, and Emma looked like she was going to argue until Bronwyn spoke up.

"We'll charge at him! He'll have no idea what to do. Come on!" Without giving us a chance to argue, Bronwyn charged, a loud battle cry erupting from her mouth as she went. We followed, though it wasn't like we had any other choice, as she was our only protection. In my haste, I barely noticed the bullets Golan fired at us, though I certainly heard the loud clangs as they bounced off the door. And Bronwyn, coated in Millard's blood and soaked wth water gleaming in the moonlight, looked like I fearsome warrior I would hate to have to face.

When Bronwyn ordered us to dodge behind the lighthouse I was startled but complaint, grabbing hold of Millard once more and tugging him aside with me, Emma, and Jacob. We all watched in amazement as Bronwyn lifted the door over her head and hurled it at Golan, knocking him off his feet with a scream. I slumped against the lighthouse, closing my eyes and catching my breath. After all the swimming and running, I was exhausted.

"I got him!" Bronwyn cried happily as she joined us behind the lighthouse, away from Golan's view. I was relieved and so were Jacob and Millard, but Emma was upset.

"Did you even think of the birds?" she asked, more worried than upset, now. "They could be hurt even worse now!"

"They're fine, Em. He dropped them when he saw the door coming."

I finally opened my eyes and turned to Bronwyn. "Next time, give us a little time to think before we risk our lives like that, alright?" I asked, smiling a little to let her know I wasn't mad. She smiled too, albeit a little sheepishly, before Jacob spoke up.

"Shush," he said, and we all heard the sound of gently groaning metal. "What is that?"

I strained my ears and mind to think, but Emma came to the conclusion first. "He's climbing up the lighthouse stairs."

"You lot had better go after him, then," came a croaking voice, and I turned my head to face Millard, who was sitting next to me against the lighthouse. I sat forward and turned my body toward him before taking his hand.

"Not until we've looked after you," I said, smiling sadly at him.

"Who can make a tourniquet?" Jacob asked.

Bronwyn tore off one of the legs of her pants as she replied. "I can. Kallie and I will stay here while you two get the wight. I may have hit him, but he's still going, so don't give him time to get his wind back." Jacob nodded, then turned to Emma.

"Are you ready?" he asked her. There was a look of determination on the blonde's face.

"Definitely, if it means I can burn him to a crisp," Emma replied. I smiled at her words, and when she and Jake stood, I opened my arms, inviting Jacob in for a hug. It was slightly awkward, as he was standing and I was sitting, but if this was the last time I was going to see him, I wasn't going to say goodbye without a hug.

The three of us remaining by the lighthouse watched sadly as we watched our two friends go, but we all knew it was time to get to business. Bronwyn and I turned to Millard.

"Alright, Bronwyn, I'll check it out first and see if I can find the bullet. Then when we've cleared most of the blood away, you can put the tourniquet in place." Bronwyn nodded, but as I moved to Millard's other side, where the bullet was, she spoke up.

"You can call me Wyn, you know. All my friends do."

I paused and looked back at her with a smile. "You consider us friends?" I asked. The brunette only nodded, a smile matching mine on her face. "I'm glad." We may not have spoken that often over the past few weeks - I was usually with Millard, Claire and Olive, or Fiona - but I suppose facing death together was something friends did. With one last nod of reassurance, we set to work.

I turned to Millard who was gazing dazed into the distance. That worried me to no end, but I knew I had to focus on finding the bullet somewhere in his marred flesh. "This may hurt," I warned him in a quiet voice before I took my shirt from his wound, where it was practically glued by the blood that had dried, and began dabbing at what was still wet. He was still bleeding, but the speed of blood flow had gone down significantly, so my panic was reduced. He winced a little but was soon used to the feeling of fabric on his open wound.

As I dabbed away the blood, I frowned when I realized I would never be able to wash the blood out of my white shirt. My frown only deepened when I noticed Millard shivering, and that I was shivering as well. Well, it made sense - the water was freezing and I was wearing next to nothing, now, with only my bra, shorts, and underwear. Millard was worse off, considering he didn't even have that. I wished there was a way to keep him warm while I worked, but that just wasn't possible.

There was a loud screeching from inside the lighthouse, causing me to jump and Millard to wince as I did. I didn't want to think about what was going on in there, but it couldn't have been good. As soon as the noise stopped, I returned to my work.

"There we go," I said with a sigh as I finished dabbing away what I could of the blood. I set my bloody shirt aside and examined Millard's wound a little closer, though the bullet hole was slowly filling with blood again, and it was far too small to remove or even see the bullet. "Alright, Wyn. Do your thing."

Bronwyn and I switched sides and I held Millard's hand, comforting him silently as Bronwyn created a makeshift tourniquet around his torso. It took a lot less time than I was expecting. Bronwyn stood and excused herself, claiming she would go to stand watch by the door, though I had a feeling she knew Millard and I would want to be alone. As soon as she disappeared from our sight, Millard spoke.

"Why are you here? I'm sure Bronwyn could have handled looking after me herself," he asked drowsily. I looked down at our hands and frowned. Didn't he want me here?

"I came because you were in trouble. I didn't want to stand by when I knew I could help," I explained.

Millard chuckled softly, though it looked like it hurt. "So you risked your life to save mine?" I thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, I guess I did." Millard looked like he was about to say something in response before he burst into a coughing spell, which must have hurt intensely. I gripped his hand tighter as I waited out the episode, and once it was over I scooted closer to him. "Are you alright?" I asked.

Millard nodded. "It hurts, though," he said. I smiled sadly before leaning against his good side, knowing that the only help I could give him now was comfort and my attention. I was confused when I felt his hand leave mine, and for a moment I thought he was going to pass out, but the confusion disappeared when I felt his fingers brush my cheek. I looked up at him, my green eyes wide while his brown ones were half-lidded, tempted by sleep yet filled with a burning intensity that let me short of breath. As our faces neared, I noticed something about him that I only paid attention to once before, when I was painting his portrait. There, in the little crook between his nose and his left eye, was a small brown freckle. In seconds, I felt his damp lips meet mine and my eyes fluttered shut - a moment of pure bliss, just when I needed it most.

There was something about this kiss that was different than our first and second ones. There was a raw passion, a greedy hunger, a lustful sincerity that drove us, and I was blown away. My fingers trailed up his neck to tangle themselves in his damp brown hair as all the sounds faded around us, replaced by the racing beat of my heart. He smelled and tasted of salt from the water surrounding us, but it was good and right. The feeling of his hands on my bare waist made me realize that I'd never been this close to anyone, neither physically nor emotionally.

And just like that, it was gone - we both needed air. I looked once more at Millard noticing his freckle once more before I glanced into his eyes. "What was that for?" I said, breathless. There was a faint smile on his lips - those goddamn lips - as he replied.

"Just in case I never see you again." With that, he shut his eyes and fell asleep. I immediately grew alarmed and sat up with a start, shaking Millard, trying to wake him up.

"Millard!" I cried, the desperate tone in my voice was enough to bring Bronwyn running back. "Shit, shit, shit..." I muttered under my breath as Bronwyn kneeled beside us, not needing me to fill her in one what had happened. We tried in vain to wake Millard up, but it was no use - he was passed out.

I remembered what he had told me only a minute before - it was what I'd told him when I went to stop Golan from shooting Claire, when I wasn't sure if I'd live or not. I realized what this meant - Millard was dying, and he knew it. Tears came to my eyes as I continued to try to shake Millard awake, but Bronwyn placed a forceful hand on my arm, stopping me. I looked at her, her sad brown doe eyes saying a silent 'stop'.

There was a loud scream and a gunshot from above and I flinched. Bronwyn and I looked up to see a bright flash of light - Emma. Our surroundings caught up with me, and the surging waves of the ocean drowned out any voices that might have carried down from the top of the lighthouse. Any questions either of us we were about to verbalize were lost as we watched the body of a man tumble down from the top of the lighthouse. They had done it - Jacob and Emma had killed the wight.

I looked back down at Millard and shook him gently once more, hoping he'd wake up. My heart soared when I saw his eyelids flicker, and in mere seconds he was awake again. I barely gave him time to sit up when I wrapped my arms around him in a tight embrace, relieved that he hadn't died.

"Mill, they did it! The wight's dead!" I exclaimed as I pulled away from him, leaving room for Bronwyn to hug him as well. The smile on Millard's face was enough to revitalize me, and in another moment, Bronwyn and I managed to get him standing up so we could greet Jacob and Emma at the door. We'd only just made it there when Millard stumbled due to the obvious blood loss, and once Bronwyn and I helped him sit against the lighthouse once more, I went back to where we just were to grab my bloody shirt.

As I made my way to the edge of the rocks by the water I began peeling the dark red fabric apart, as the blood had practically glued it to itself. I looked over my shoulder to make sure I could still see Bronwyn and Millard, then stooped down and dunked my shirt into the freezing water, hoping to wash the blood out. After a moment, the deep, intense red it had once been finally faded to a less intense orangey-brown. I wrung it out and put it on, and though it was cold, I decided I'd rather not leave my midriff exposed for longer than necessary.

I had just sat down next to Millard when Jacob and Emma bolted through the door. I stood up immediately and took Jacob's arm - as he had run right past us without knowing - and pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're alright!" I cried, breathing a sigh of relief as I stepped away from him and turned to face Emma. "Both of you!"

"Where are the birds?" Bronwyn asked as she appeared at my side - I didn't even notice her get up.

"They're still out there, they fell down with the wight," Emma explained, then looked around me and Bronwyn at Millard, who was still leaning against the lighthouse. "How's Mill?"

I turned my head towards him, a slight blush rising to my cheeks as I almost immediately looked away - after only seeing his face and torso for the past while, I nearly forgot that he was completely naked. "He'll be just fine," I replied, looking at Emma with a small smile. "Well, so long as we get him back to the island before sunrise." Emma nodded, then jumped a little when Jacob grabbed onto her shoulder. He had been looking at our surroundings while we spoke, which I realized was for the best when he pointed to something bobbing in the water on the opposite side of the lighthouse to where I'd rinsed out my shirt.

"The boat!" he cried, pointing to Emma's little canoe the wight had stolen. Emma shook her head.

"No, Jake, it's too far away. We'll have to swim," she replied, and with no further explanation, Jacob and Emma took off again, rushing toward the edge of the rocks and diving into the freezing water. I shared a look with Bronwyn who smiled wryly. "They're going to save the birds," she stated, and I remembered what Emma had said - they were still out there. We made our way back to Millard with haste, hoping to god that Jacob and Emma would find the birds soon.

The three of us watched as Emma and Jake swam out to sea, farther and farther until we'd lost sight of them in the dark. Our only indication that the two of them were still alive and out there was Emma's elated cry a few minutes after they'd dived into the water. They must have found the birds. I leaped up and let out a cheer, but it was cut short when I looked back to the water to see a large U-boat rising from the murky depths, taking Jacob and Emma with it. Was that what Golan was waiting for?

I stood, frozen in fear at what could happen to my friends. I felt a hand slip into mine and looked down, only to see an equally frightened looking Millard, gripping tightly to me with what little strength he had left. We watched what little we could, only seeing what was highlighted by the moonlight. The sound of multiple gunshots careening off the hull of the ship was clear, but aside from that, nothing was set in stone. We watched in fear of what may happen until there was a sharp intake of breath from somewhere beside me - I paid no mind to who it was from - as someone dived off the ship, making a splash that was all too clear in the moonlight. Then there was a loud shriek that sounded hardly human, and I could only guess who it was - Miss Peregrine!

A second body dived after the first, and I realized that they could only be Emma and Jacob. I gripped tighter to Millard's hand when I saw the whirlpool open up behind them as the U-boat sank below the water once more. Bronwyn then darted forward - to help out friends, no doubt - and dove into the water, planning to return Emma and Jacob to us, where they rightly belonged.

As soon as Jacob and Emma collapsed back onto the rocks, I let go of Millard's hand and raced toward them. I waited for only a moment until Jacob finally rose, and with the force of my embrace, we both nearly fell back into the water. Bronwyn and I helped them back to the lighthouse where they could recharge and explain what had happened, though they only explained vaguely - that was good enough for me, though, because I was mostly just relieved when I saw that Emma was hugging Miss Peregrine - in her bird form - tightly to her chest, not wanting to lose her beloved Headmistress again.

Once Jacob and Emma finally recovered enough, the five - no, six - of us made our way to Emma's little boat. Before she took the oars, Bronwyn tucked Miss Peregrine into her shirt. We made it to the island quicker than I expected, though I suppose the darkness messed with my perception.

As soon as we neared the beach the other children all waded into the water to greet us, bombarding us with questions about the shooting and the U-boat and everything else as they did. Once we were all out of the boat and on dry land, sand sticking to our wet feet, Bronwyn lifted her shirt to show them Miss Peregrine, who crowed at them as a sign that she was alright. The children were happy, but Millard began stumbling again and I led him to a tree to rest against for a while. While the children celebrated the return of their Headmistress, I went to gather Millard's clothes - or at least enough of them to cover what needed to be.

When I returned and handed him his pants and underwear, the children finally turned their attention to us. In any other situation, there might have been sniggers or laughs, but it was impossible not to see the tourniquet stabilizing the invisible boy. His pants were hardly enough to keep him warm, and I smiled when Enoch offered up his coat and Fiona gave up her hat, though he only accepted the latter and instead took my arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. In any other situation, I may have laughed - he'd just made me make a move on him.

"We've got to get him to a doctor," I announced, "or he may not make it." There were a few gasps amongst the children, but I was surprised when the first person to speak up was Millard himself.

"Oh, you won't get rid of me that easily," he said breathlessly, a small smile on his face. "Besides, how will the doctor react to seeing - well, not seeing and invisible boy? Even if he doesn't run away screaming, he'll still mess up somewhere along the way," he addressed everyone, then turned to me. "The only person who can help me is you, Kallie, and I'm sorry to say that you're highly unqualified." I frowned.

"Whether or not he runs away won't matter once the loop resets," Emma pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest.

Millard smiled sadly and shook his head. "Don't you understand, Em? The loop should have reset itself an hour ago, at least." When he said that, I finally looked around. The ocean had calmed down somewhat, the sky was clear, and the battle on Cairnholm was long since finished, but the smell of ash and sights of smoke in the air were enough to let us all know that he was right.

"This can't be good," Enoch muttered, saying what we were all thinking.

"Nonetheless, everything we need is back at the house. I just need a bolt of Laudanum and some alcohol to cleanse it and I'll be good as new before next week." In that moment, I admired Millard's positivity, though I knew I couldn't afford to think that way - not under these circumstances. He was still bleeding and the bullet was still stuck in him, and Miss Avocet had just been captured by the wights.

Bronwyn stepped toward Millard and me as she pointed out the obvious. "You're still bleeding pretty bad." I frowned as I noticed the trails of blood racing slowly down his arm, staining his shirt and making wet red droplets in the sand.

"Then tie the damn tourniquet tighter!" he growled. All the blood loss was making him switch between flirty, angry, and tired, I supposed. I wouldn't be surprised if he fell asleep on me again. Bronwyn shrugged and kneeled down on his other side, doing as he said and tightening the tourniquet. Millard let out a strangled gasp before he slumped into my chest, knocked out cold.

"Will he be alright?" Claire asked, her timid voice breaking the sudden silence. I patted Millard's cheek a few times, trying to wake him back up, though I was calmer now than when we were back by the lighthouse.

"'Course he will," Enoch replied before I could, though he used a much gruffer tone than I would have. "He ain't as strong as he makes himself out to be." I frowned, but bit my tongue - knowing Enoch, he probably wouldn't even listen to me if I were to defend Millard's physique.

There was another small silence before Claire spoke again. "What now?" she asked. It was Olive who answered.

"We can ask Miss Peregrine!" she cried happily, then turned to the bird in question. Emma, who had taken Miss Peregrine from Brownwyn, set the falcon down, and we all waited for something to happen. All Miss Peregrine did was hop forward a bit and flap one wing - I never noticed that the other must have been broken - and then she blinked a few times.

"Maybe she could use a little privacy?" Emma suggested, implying that we should look away. After all, when ymbrynes changed, their clothes didn't come with them. Everyone else turned their backs while I set my attention back on Millard, brushing his hair out of his face and adjusting him into a more comfortable position - one where he wasn't bleeding on me. After turning his body so he could rest his head in my lap I looked up, only to see that there was still no change in Miss Peregrine.

Hugh must have also checked to see if anything changed, for he spoke next. "No, she's still a bird." Everyone turned back around.

"Well, perhaps she's tired," I pointed out, sending all eyes back on me and Millard. "I know I would be, after being kidnapped by a wight." I knew what I said was sort of shitty, what with the reminder of the recent events, but I had a point, and aside from her broken wing Miss Peregrine was safe. Everyone agreed, and before even a minute had passed, Bronwyn had picked Millard up and began carrying him back to the house, the rest of us following closely behind her.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Over the past week and a half, I'd taken to considering the house my home. I'd spent more time there than at the Priest Hole, and already I considered myself to be close with all of the children - well, except for Enoch. He was either downstairs all the time or complaining, but I suppose we had a mutual respect - after all, both our peculiarities had to do with the dead. Even the occasional ghosts I would see on my way to and from the loops were beginning to feel like family - implying that without them there, it would feel... empty.

Yes, Miss Peregrine's little, secluded home was my home, too. Which was exactly why I sank to my knees at the sight of it, tears welling up in my eyes. In our absence, the house had been half destroyed - one corner was completely blown to smithereens. Several small fires burned on, adding to the smoke and ash that already filled the air. Where Fiona's Adam topiary had been was a deep, wide crater - large enough that if Claire and Olive had got in and one stood on the other's shoulders, they still wouldn't be able to get out.

Worst of all was the way Miss Peregrine leaped from her perch on Fiona's head and began rushing toward the house, squawking forlornly as she went. I looked at Fiona, wondering how she was reacting to the destruction of her handiwork. She was crying, no doubt, but not because of Adam's destruction - though, then again, I wasn't crying about that either. The house we had all come to know as our home was gone for good. Looking at it then, in that state, it was easy to see how it grew to become the devastation Jacob and I first saw it as.

I was glad I wasn't the only one crying, to say the least. While most of the other children were shocked to silence, Claire, Olive, and - as I previously mentioned - Fiona were also shedding tears, though the former two were doing so much louder than me and Fiona. I turned away from the house, not caring if anyone else saw my obvious display of emotion, just because I couldn't bear to look at it anymore. I instead focused on Bronwyn, who set Millard next to a tree. Upon being set down, he finally woke up. I was flattered that I was the first person he saw when he did, but upon seeing my tears, he turned his head toward the house, his face letting off so much emotion, yet not at all. He was just as shocked as the rest of us.

As I made my way over to him, Bronwyn retightened his tourniquet, making sure he would last until we could salvage the house for the supplies I would need to fix him up. He'd finally stopped bleeding - mostly, anyway - but I was still just as worried as before, as there was still the chance that he could pass out but never wake up again. Millard finally tore his gaze away from the house when he felt me sit next to him, then immediately proceeded to wrap his good arm around my shoulders, providing the silent comfort we both knew I needed. In turn, I wrapped my arms around his waist, knowing that he would feel worse, probably - he had, after all, lived there for the past seventy years. We sat there for a while, curled toward each other, thinking.

It didn't bother me as much now, the age difference between us. He was still visually and mentally a teen - though, after doing the math, I came to realize that he was eighteen when the loop was formed and could have left legally. That, of course, was an impossibility, due to his invisibility. It was still hard to imagine nobody else seeing him because he was so real to me. I then remembered something and bolted upright, startling Millard as I did - the painting!

I quickly rose and rushed toward the house, hoping to god that my painting of Millard hadn't been destroyed. I ran straight through the front doorway, as the door had been blown fresh off its hinges, only to see the painting hanging on the wall; the only damage done was a few streaks of ash that would never come off. I took it down from where it hung and clutched it to my chest, paying no mind to the frame pressing into my arms. I turned to leave, then remembered that Millard still needed real medical attention. I set the painting down and turned back around, then set off into the house, pulling my shirt over my nose to block out the smoke.

Before I took more than five steps into the house, I heard Jacob calling my name. I looked over my shoulder at him as he appeared in the doorway. "Horace had a vision," he said. That alone drove the need to see what Jake was talking about. I followed after him toward where the others were gathered around Horace, who was standing in front of a rock. As we neared, I noticed that Miss Peregrine was still in her bird form.

"She still can't change back?" I asked Jacob, who shook his head sadly.

"No, we think the wights did something to her that's blocking her from changing. That's why the loop, uh, slipped," he explained. I smiled grimly, though I couldn't say anything else, as we'd arrived at the rock where Horace had drawn a crude rendition of... a snowy jail?

Horace was a few feet back now, sitting still and looking dazed. I supposed recalling the memory must have taken a lot out of him. I looked back at the sketch, trying to make sense of it. Had I seen it before? Where was it? The thick, vertical lines with loops through them were clearly some sort of fence with razor wire, while the thick black scribbles to one side formed a vague forest. There were thin black lines on the ground, implying that whatever place this was, there was snow.

"Horace," Emma started. "Do you know anything else about this place?"

"It's cold, wherever it is." Horace didn't look up as he replied, but at least we knew he was still paying attention.

Bronwyn spoke next - Olive cuddling up to her as the older girl held her in the crook of her arm. It seemed I wasn't the only one who thought it looked like a jail.

"So, when do we go?" Olive asked, and I looked up at her with wide eyes. Sometimes she could be a bit too courageous for her own good.

"What do you mean, 'when do we go'?" Enoch scoffed. "There's nowhere to go - it's only squiggles!"

Emma crossed her arms over her chest as she turned to face him. "Well, at least it's somewhere." It seemed, however, that Enoch wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Do you realize how many places can be like this? We can't just go looking around snowy spots for a prison." Well, he had a point.

"Well, we can't just stay here, either!"

"Oh, yeah?" Enoch grumbled. "Why not?" I looked back at the house, a small frown on my face.

"Look around," Emma said. "We can't stay here - it's impossible. The house, Miss Peregrine - everything's gone. We've had a damn good run here, but it's over, now."

They went back and forth like that for a long while. I was too busy thinking to put in any of my own opinions as a full blown debate broke out, but I don't think anyone noticed my silence. I was on Emma's side, but I only made that clear by standing just behind her when the others began picking sides. It made sense, after all - stay or go, nothing would be the same. At the very least, if we left the island, we could have a chance at finding another ymbryne who could help us heal Miss Peregrine, and then the children could get their loop back. Besides, Jake and I had gone too far to turn our backs on them now, and we still had two weeks before we needed to go back to Florida. It was the better choice.

"What if there are no more ymbrynes? What if they've all been kidnapped and the headmistress is the only one left?" Hugh pointed out, and at last, I spoke up, gritting my teeth and balling my hands into fists.

"You know we can't afford to think like that," I said. We couldn't, we just couldn't. I had so little hope left - I couldn't lose the hope that Miss Peregrine could be saved.

"Kallie's right," Emma said, sending me a small smile. "There have to be some left. We're not the only ones with a well-hidden loop."

"They've got a point," Millard pointed out, causing us all to turn our heads toward where he was still laying against the tree. I felt guilty for forgetting about him, but as soon as we settled the argument, I would get straight to fixing up his wound - with some assistance, as I couldn't trust myself to know what to do anymore. "We can't just sit and wait and hope for things to get better, or that hollows won't find us," he continued. "The only way things will get better is if we make them get better."

At last, those arguing to stay stood down, realizing that their solution was flawed - and quite cowardly. It was decided - we'd pack everything we thought we'd need on our journey and leave the house behind. Though, I supposed it wasn't just the house they were leaving behind, but so many memories, as well. This was everything they'd known for the past near eighty years - to give that up would be hell. But such sacrifices had to be made under such dire circumstances. It reminded me of when I first left Orlando and moved to Englewood. I pointed this out to the children, reminding them that if I hadn't, I would never have met Jacob, and, in turn, we might never have met them.

We decided we'd leave in the morning, after asking for - or taking, depending on who'd survived - a few small boats from the harbor. I went back into the house with Jacob and Emma, wet clothes over our noses and mouths to block out the smoke, though they went looking for a map to navigate to the mainland, while I searched for the Laudanum and bandages. Emma and Jake were waiting for me by the door to the kitchen, where I found some alcohol under the counter. I was grateful for their company - the shattered windows and charred furniture were more than a little creepy to walk past alone.

The three of us made our way toward Millard where he was resting by the tree, using a charred brick as a makeshift pillow. I kneeled at his side and brushed some hair from his face, granting him a gentle smile as he woke up. He sat up and leaned once more against the tree, then waited patiently as Emma instructed me on how to dress his wound. I cringed when he hissed at the feeling of the Laudanum on his wound, but I knew it would help cleanse, it so I continued with only a small 'sorry'.

As soon as I'd finished wrapping the bandage around Millard's torso and arm, Emma opened the large book she held and set it in front of him. The four of us gathered around the ancient looking book - though it seemed more like an atlas than a map, as Emma had suggested. I stroked the burgundy leather front before Emma opened it, and I was immediately enraptured by the parchment inside - each page looked hand-drawn. Emma pulled the open book on her lap, and from where I was sitting I had to lean on Millard to get a good glimpse at each page, though I was sure neither of us minded.

"This is the Map of Days," Emma explained. "Every loop ever made has been documented in these pages." The page we were looking at looked like a bare map of Turkey - the only markings on it were small, scattered spirals, which must have represented each loop. Each swirl had a small and unique symbol in the middle, which could be found in a legend along the bottom that had a series of numbers and dashes corresponding to each symbol.

"Are those dates?" I asked, pointing to the number-dash series closest to me - 29-3-316/?-?-399. Emma nodded, though she didn't look up.

"Yes," she replied, pointing to the swirl the date referred to. "The twenty-ninth of March, 316 A.D. Something happened in 399 that lead to it slipping, though we don't know how." I nodded as Jacob reached across her and flipped a few pages, landing on a map of Greece with more such spirals and dates.

"Alright, but what's the point of documenting them if they've slipped? How would anyone get to them?"

Millard looked up at him as he replied. "Well, you'd have to leapfrog. As difficult and dangerous as it is, it's possible to go from one loop to another, then go through more loops from there. For instance, in your time, many loops have slipped, but you could still access those loops from here. If you were to leap fifty years into the past, you would have access to any loops that had slipped between those fifty years."

"That..." Jacob said, then stopped, trying to gather his thoughts. My eyes went wide.

"That's time travel!" I exclaimed, and Millard smiled in my direction.

"Yes, I suppose it is," he replied.

Jacob spoke again, his eyebrows furrowing. "So, then, that place Horace drew isn't just a question of where, but when?" he asked. Emma had a contemplative on her face.

"I'm sorry to say it, but it seems so," Millard answered. "Unfortunately for us, the wights are quite adept at leapfrogging, meaning they're probably taking Miss Avocet and the others to somewhere in the past. It'll be near impossible to find them at any rate - and dangerous, too."

"Well," Jacob said, "it's a good thing I'll be going with you."

Emma, no surprise, was elated, hugging him immediately. I only wished the decision to go with them or return home was as easy for me. Everyone took their turns celebrated Jacob's choice until they all realized I hadn't said anything and turned expectantly toward me. I stood, my arms crossed over my chest and head bent down a bit.

"I..." I began, not really knowing what to say. I wished I could avoid looking at the hurt expressions on everyone's faces - why couldn't I just agree? Claire approached me, the saddest look on her face, and grabbed my hand.

"Please come with us, Kallie?" she asked, and in that moment, I felt so immensely guilty for even considering leaving them behind, but I knew it wasn't that simple of a decision to make. The others began pleading as well, though not quite as explicitly as they might have.

They knew that Jake and I had lives outside the loop, but Jacob had pointed out a few times that all he really had were his parents, who would never understand him after this - he had no idea what he wanted to do - he hadn't even enrolled in a college or university yet. I hated to say it, but I had much more waiting for me - college, my parents who've supported me through everything, even if they didn't understand it all, and, God! I had a new little brother to worry about! But on the other hand...

I couldn't just leave this all behind. The children were a part of my life, too, and to turn my back on them when they needed me most would not only hurt them, but me, as well. I looked at each of them, then smiled a small, sad smile as I replied.

"I'm coming with you," I said. Claire and Olive led the cheer, and I felt a hand slip into mine. I looked down to see none other than Millard, a worried smile on his face.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "When we leave the island, the loop will close. You may never be able to return to your time. Even if you can, it won't be easy." I thought for a moment, and the kids waited in silence. I looked around once more, my eyes resting temporarily on Emma and Jacob, both pleading with their eyes, though I knew they would be more accepting of me leaving than the others. I looked back at Millard, and the moment our eyes met, I knew my answer.

"It'll be worth it," I said, turning my head once more to address everyone. "You all are like my family, now. I could never live with myself knowing I'd never be able to see you again." While that was true, the same went for my family back in Florida. Though, as I felt Millard entwine our fingers together, I recalled what he had said and a smile grew on my face - there was still a chance, however slim, that I could return home.

Jacob stood, sending all our attention on him. "Where are you off to?" Emma asked before anyone else could.

"I'm going for a walk," he replied, then said nothing else as he began to walk away. Once he'd gone some distance, the other children began clustering in little groups, planning what we would do once we made it to the mainland. I didn't join them and instead sat back down next to Millard. We sat in a comfortable silence, my head resting on his shoulder - on the side of him that wasn't injured - and his head on top of mine.

"You don't have to come with us, I know you have a lot waiting for you back home." As reassuring as he was trying to sound, I could still detect the slight bitterness in his voice. I moved my head and looked up at him.

"Of course I have to," I replied. "I want to help. You can't change my mind, and I can't leave you all behind. Besides, you said there's still a chance I can get back, but once you leave the island and I leave the loop, there would be no way to get back to you, unless I leapfrogged back in Florida."

"Which would be impossible to do successfully without the Map of Days," he pointed out. I smiled up at him.

"Exactly," I replied.

Millard smiled back at me and placed a quick peck on my lips. I smiled a little bit, but it disappeared quickly when I noticed that Jacob had returned and was speaking to Emma, pulling her attention away from the Map. He helped her up, leaving Miss Peregrine behind to look through the Map for herself, and the two of them headed towards me and Millard.

"C'mon, Kallie," Jake said, extending a hand for me to take. "We've got some unfinished business to attend to."

By the time we arrived back in town on our side of the loop the sun was beginning to rise. The ground was wet from rain, though were wasn't a cloud to be seen. The bar was empty and Kev hadn't woken up yet, though I supposed that was for the best - we didn't want any questions. Our room was as we left it, with the curtains on each window drawn and every door closed.

"I'm going to call my folks," Jake said quietly. I nodded and he headed off to his room, shutting the door for privacy. I thought of doing the same but decided I'd wait until he was done - that way, I could ask him what he said and our stories would line up.

I began repacking my bags, ensuring that my books were cleared off the side table and my boots and running shoes were out from under the bed before zipping it closed. I looked once more around the now-bare room - there was no sign that I'd ever been there. I sat on my bed and began turning over my phone in my hands until Jacob come in, finished his conversation with his parents.

"What did you tell them?" I asked. Jacob sat next to me and frowned.

"I said we might be late getting home," he began, then started laughing, though it was more a laugh of self-pity than anything. "I told my dad we're going backpacking through Europe. I don't think he fell for it, though."

I smiled, then dialed my dad's number. It rang three times before a knock sounded at the door. I shared a confused look with Jacob, but before I could get up to answer my dad picked up his cell.

"Hey, Kallie," he greeted tiredly. "It's one in the morning here, what's up?"

"Hey, Dad, is James there? This is something I need to tell both of you. It's really important," I replied. I heard him sigh, then there was a little pause before James' voice came as well.

"Hey, Kal, we put you on speaker, alright? What's up?"

I took a deep breath, but whatever I was going to say was cut off by another knock on the door. Jacob got up to answer it as I replied. "Listen, Jake and I may be late coming home. We're-"

"Hullo, Jake!" came the familiar voice of a little girl from the door, and I looked up to see Olive and Emma standing in the doorway.

"Kallie, who was that?" Dad asked. The two girls entered the room, followed by Millard, who must have been putting pants on at the bottom of the stairs. I grew worried for his wellbeing - he should have been resting! - but didn't say anything for fear of my parents getting worked up.

"Uh... just some friends we made. Listen, we're-"

I was cut off again when Olive jumped onto the bed next to me. "What's that, Kallie?" she asked, and I began to feel a little sick.

"Olive, not right now," I told her, then returned to my conversation with my dads, who were still waiting patiently for a good reason why I woke them up at one in the morning. "We're going away for a while," I said.

"Are you going with your friends? Can we talk to them?" asked James. I sighed, knowing very well that they wouldn't let me hang up without at least saying 'hi'.

I held the phone away from my face and clicked the 'speaker' button before calling Emma and Millard over. Emma sat on my other side - I suppose Jake must have taught her about phones - but Millard stood his distance. "Dad, James," I began. "These are some of my new friends, Olive and Emma."

"Hullo!" Olive said, waving at the phone. I laughed a little.

"Olive, they can't see you. It's just their voices," I explained. Emma smiled at the younger girl, too, and in turn greeted my dads.

"It's nice to know Kallie's made friends over there," Dad said, a teasing tone soon entering his voice as he continued to speak. "But I heard you call for a Millard? Who's that?"

I looked up at him, then, and noticed the discomfort on his face. "He's a, um, a friend, as well."

"More like 'boyfriend'," Jacob joked from the other room where he was packing his bag, knowing just how to embarrass me, even over the phone. I'd only ever had two official boyfriends, both of which were freaked out by the fact that I could see ghosts, which I'd never been very good at keeping under wraps. Nonetheless, I was often teased regardless of my level of friendship with a guy.

"Shut up!" I told him defensively, then got up and approached Millard, smiling at the red blush on his cheeks. "Say hi," I directed him.

"Hello, it's, er, nice to meet you," he said awkwardly, not yet comfortable with telecommunications.

I smiled a bit wider, then immediately frowned upon realizing that I couldn't lie now, not after having my parents speak with three of the kids, however short their exchanges may have been. "Alright, now for my explanation," I began. "Dad, James. Jake and I have met a bunch of people this past week and a half. The thing is, they're all like me, in a way."

"What do you mean, Kal? Like, they see ghosts, too?" I chuckled a little at James' question before replying.

"No, they've all got different... powers. We call them peculiarities. Emma can make fire with her hands, Olive can float, and Millard is invisible, but I can see him because of my ghost thing," I explained. I could tell a million things must have been racing through their minds in that moment.

"Alright," Dad said after a moment's pause. "Why are you telling us this at one a.m., though?"

I took another deep breath, gathering the words up before I finally found what I could possibly say. "They're in danger. There are these monsters that are chasing them - and me and Jake, now, too, but Jake can see them - that's what he can do. We're going to see if we can find a way to help them out. We told his parents we're going backpacking through Europe, but nothing else. Just - don't worry too much, okay? I promise I'll come home, alright? I'll be home in time to start college, and I'll be the best big sister Liam could ever have. I love you guys, okay?"

They were silent - everyone was. "We love you too," Dad replied. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Everything's fine, Dad, I promise," I replied, though I felt like I was lying. "Love you." I hung up before either of them could say anything else. Millard rested a hand on my shoulder as soon as I tossed my phone onto the bed, but I turned to him, anger and worry bubbling in a brew in my stomach. "What the hell are you doing here? You should be resting!" I cried, placing my hands on his cheeks.

"I was in the area," Millard said, then reached into his pocket with a smile on his face and withdrew a bottle of painkillers. "I must say, modern medicine is much better than ours." I smiled, relieved, before hugging him, careful not to further injure him.

"I'm just glad you're safe." I let go of him and turned to Emma and Olive, who were looking curiously at my phone. "All of you. We'd better be heading back, or you'll start to age." They each nodded, just as Jacob walked into the room, his bag slung over his shoulder. We each had suitcases, as well, but those were too heavy and far too futuristic to pass where we were going. We left our room keys on the bar counter. We made our way through the town silently. I looked back only once, at the edge of the forest - one last goodbye, just in case I never saw 2013 again. By four-thirty in the morning, there was no sigh that Jacob Portman and Kallie Sanders had ever been to Cairnholm Island.

Once we were at the cairn, Olive stopped and patted it. "Goodbye, loop. You've been so good to us, and we'll miss you," she said, and Emma placed a gentle hand on her shoulder before they entered. Jacob, Millard, and I followed quickly after them, then stopped when we reached the far chamber where the switchover occurred. Emma held a ball of blue flame to the wall, illuminating a long list of initials and dates I hadn't noticed before.

"It's every other time this place has been used to make a loop," she explained. Millard stooped down, searching through the gravel for something as the rest of us marveled at the engravings in the stone.

There were many etchings, but few were still legible, due to weathering and such over the years, I supposed. There was P.M. 3-2-1853, and just above it was J.R.R. - I paused for a minute, reminded of the author, J.R.R. Tolkien - 1-4-1797 and even earlier still was an X.J. 1580. Those were the only three I could really make out, and as my eyes rested on some odd symbols I couldn't make sense of, Emma spoke up.

"Those are runic inscriptions," she said. "They're quite ancient."

Millard finally found what he was looking for - two stones, one sharp and the other flat. He began carving in his own epigraph. A.P. 3-9-1940, it read.

"Who's AP?" Olive asked, crouching to get a better look at the engraving.

"That's Alma Peregrine," Millard replied, sighing as he set aside the two rocks and stood. "She should be the one making this carving, not me." I rest a hand on his shoulder as Olive ran her hand across the new inscription.

"Do you think another ymbryne will make a loop here someday?" she asked, my heart breaking at the tone in her voice.

Millard drew in a long breath. "I hope so," he replied simply, though the gravity of his words were far from simple. "I truly, truly hope so."

I was more than freaked out when, upon our return, Jacob and some others reentered the house and came out with a dead body. Millard explained that his name was Victor - Bronwyn's brother. He had been killed years ago by a hollow because he insisted on wandering outside the loop. They were glad no one else was caught, but it was sad, nonetheless.

The group of people who were carrying Victor upon the bed he'd been laying on for years stopped by Adam's crater, Bronwyn at the head. It was bittersweet to watch them all gather around him and say a few words, but I kept my distance - it felt wrong to butt in when I'd only just learned about him. I had never seen anyone who looked like him, so he must not have had a ghost. Bronwyn tucked Victor in one last time and gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead. Enoch gave him his best clay soldier. They each had something nice to say. Then he was covered bit by bit.

After they filled the crater, Fiona placed some branches and vines on top and set to work. After only a minute, the rest of the children set to packing. I grew conscious of my own bag, hanging off my shoulder, carrying so much more weight than one would think. Not only were my belongings inside it, but so were my memories of home, and the knowledge that I may never return. I sat by the tree, waiting and watching Fiona recreate Adam - I admired that she'd remembered how to make him by memory.

By the time Fiona had finished her creation the rest of the children had finished packing. We all bid farewell to the house - their home - and some kids even took a brick or a wilted flower to have as a keepsake. We made our way back across the island for the last time, through the still-smouldering forest and the bog - now filled with bomb holes. The town was more intact that I expected, and the townsfolk were so tired and shocked to silence that they barely even noticed our odd little band of twelve - including Miss Peregrine, who was once again riding in Fiona's hair. I didn't blame them, though - I was shocked, too. We all were.

It took only a moment to realize that I hadn't slept in almost a day - none of the children had. The thing was, I could hardly tell; the only giveaway was the growing circles under each of our eyes, though from the distance the townsfolk were at, they wouldn't have noticed whether they paid attention to us or not. It was now September fourth and time was moving as it should for the first time in a very long time. A few children claimed they could feel the difference, and I could see what they meant. Over the past two weeks of going back and forth between my time and theirs, I felt a little heavier when I entered the loop. Now, all that heaviness was gone - it was easier to breathe and my blood no longer felt like molasses as it flowed through my veins. The children felt it too - they felt alive, and that was the best feeling in the world.

I never thought I would have to say goodbye to everything I knew - not forever, at least. If I had been told months ago that I would find myself where I was that day - loading what little I carried with me into a small boat along with ten children and one bird who were just like me - I never would have believed them. Yet there I was, turning my back on everything I ever knew and loved and staring death in the face. The chances of me surviving this journey were slim to none, but I had to try - I just had to.

At a glance, anyone could assume that I was as ordinary as they come. The things was, I was the furthest thing from ordinary, especially now, after everything that had happened in the past two weeks. It was as I was stepping into the boat that I suddenly realized how much I longed for just a moment of normalcy in my life - a moment where I couldn't see ghosts and the invisible stayed invisible. All I'd ever known, all my earliest memories, were plagued with visions of spirits and it really, truly scared me that I would never be able to change that, no matter how hard I tried or how long I searched. Many people longed to be different and unique, but I longed for just the opposite.

There was a weight in my chest, a feeling I couldn't place. I felt sick to my stomach and I wanted to collapse in tears, but at the same time, I felt nothing at all. The deep melancholy in my chest was persistent, keeping me rooted in place behind the rest of the children. I felt a hand on my shoulder - physical touch seemed to be the only thing I could feel anymore - and knew immediately that it was Millard. The lack of emotion I felt - or didn't feel, I supposed - did not waver at his touch. I was completely numb to the world - I felt as if my soul had fallen from my body, and the worst part was that I was beginning to get used to it.

As the eleven of us - twelve, including Miss Peregrine - piled into three rowboats so thin we had to leave some things behind - I refused to let go of Millard's portrait - I hoped to god that I could regain my emotions. Except I couldn't, not really - I was too callous to even allow myself the hope of feeling. I sat in silence as Emma suggested someone say a speech, but nobody seemed to be able to gather the right words to say. Instead, Enoch lifted Miss Peregrine's cage - much larger than the one the wights had - and, in turn, she let out a loud cry. The others did the same, their shouts a lament for all we'd lost and a celebration of all we still had, but I remained silent - I couldn't bring myself to even open my mouth as I stroked the ash streaks on my painting of Millard. I felt devoid of feelings - devoid of meaning. I wondered if I looked as empty as I felt.

We set off at the break of dawn. I sat in the third boat, waiting for the first two to row out far enough that we could all take off. Jacob and Hugh rowed the first of three, taking with them Emma, Enoch, and Miss Peregrine. Bronwyn alone rowed the second boat for herself, Olive, and Claire, while Horace and Fiona rowed our boat with Millard and I sat between them - him studying the Map of Days and me still distracting myself with his portrait. I was still nervous about boats, though after what had happened just mere hours ago I could say my fear of swimming had disappeared. I couldn't bring myself to look out across the sea, but nobody was complaining.

Bronwyn's little shout was what finally grabbed my attention, and I looked up at her to see her aiming Miss Peregrine's camera towards Jacob's boat. I frowned when I realized for the first time that we'd brought none of Miss Peregrine's photo albums due to lack of space, but I still couldn't bring myself to actually feel the pain of loss. After all, we could always make our own, new photo album one day, when all of this was over - if any of us survived. The stories each picture yet to be taken could hold were a driving force for me, though, and I finally felt something - determination. Those pictures had to mean something. I had to stay alive to tell the story of these peculiar children. Miss Peregrine's peculiar children.

 **Ahhh! So book one is finally done! As I type this, it's 10:51 p.m. on the fourth of August, 2016. I plan on publishing the sequel here on the 4** **th of December. If, however, you would like to begin reading the sequel immediately, it's already published on my Wattpad account, kittykatrawr365, or on Archive of Our Own as kat_martine.**

 **So, what did you think of my Miss Peregrine fan fiction? Did you like Kallie? How about her peculiarity? Do you ship #Kallard? Are you excited for the next book?**

 **Now, I'm sure some of you may have questions, so leave them in the comments! For now, here are some answers I feel I should give beforehand, just to clear things up.**

 **1: Between Chapter Seven and Chapter Eight, there was a conversation between Jacob, Kallie, and Miss Peregrine that I seem to have skipped over. In reality, I did that on purpose. I know it was quite vital to the original plot, but I felt that if I were to rewrite the whole conversation it would be redundant and boring. Instead, I tried to fill in little gaps throughout Chapter Eight.**

 **2: Kallard is, if you couldn't guess, the ship name for Kallie and Millard. I would have gone with Millie, but it seemed too close to a real name for my liking. I tried my hardest not to rush their relationship, though I feel like I may have toward the end. I'll definitely include some Kallard drama in the next two books.**

 **3: Speaking of the next two books: Book Two will be entitled 'Distant Lives'. I'm really looking forward to writing them, just as I hope you're looking forward to reading them!**

 **Alright, well, that seems to be everything I have to say, for now. Let me know that you think! Feel free to leave a review! Thank you so, so much for reading this. I owe a lot of thanks to 28ShadesOfBlue on Wattpad, as she was the one who inspired me to write this in the first place!**

 **Lastly, before I say goodbye to Separate Entities, I would like to share a song I feel embodies this chapter, and the entire series as a whole (and the original trilogy, too). This song is 'O "Fly On"' by Coldplay. It's so beautiful and haunting, and I strongly suggest giving it a listen. Of course, this opinion is completely my own, and I understand completely if you don't agree.**

 **Once again, thank you so much for reading Separate Entities! Distant Lives, as I've mentioned, will be released on December 4th of 2016, so keep your eyes open for it!**

 **All my love,**

 **kat-martine**


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